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Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  reduction  indiquA  ci-dessous. 


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to  tha  ganarosity  of: 

Douglas  Library 
Quaan's  Univarsity 

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Original  copias  in  printad  papar  covara  ara  filmad 
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sion,  and  anding  on  tha  last  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illustratad  Imprassion. 


Tha  last  racordad  frama  on  aach  microficha 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  --^  (moaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  tha  symbol  V  (moaning  "END"), 
whichavar  applias. 


L'axamplaira  filmA  fut  raproduit  grAca  ii  la 
ginArositA  da: 

Douglas  Library 
Quaan's  Univarsity 

Laa  imagas  suivantas  ont  At*  raproduitas  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin,  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
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conformity  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
fiimaga. 

Las  axamplairas  orlginaux  dont  la  couvartura  an 
papiar  ast  imprlmte  sont  fllmte  an  commandant 
par  la  pramiar  plat  at  an  tarminant  soit  par  la 
darniAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'imprassion  ou  d'illustratlon,  soit  par  la  sacond 
plat,  salon  la  cas.  Tous  las  autras  axamplairas 
orlginaux  sont  fllmte  an  commanpant  par  la 
pramlAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'imprassion  ou  d'illustration  at  an  tarminant  par 
la  darnlAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  taila 
amprainta. 

Un  das  symbolas  suivants  apparattra  sur  la 
darnlAra  imaga  da  chaqua  microficha,  salon  la 
cas:  la  symbols  -^  signifia  "A  SUIVRE",  la 
symbols  ▼  signifia  "FIN". 


Maps,  platas,  charts,  ate,  may  ba  filmad  at 
diffarant  raduction  ratios.  Thosa  too  iarga  to  ba 
antiraly  includad  in  ona  axposura  ara  filmad 
baginning  in  tha  uppar  laft  hand  cornar,  laft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  framas  as 
raquirad.  The  following  diagrams  illustrata  tha 
mathod: 


Las  cartas,  planchas,  tablaaux,  ate,  pauvant  Atra 
filmte  A  das  taux  da  reduction  diffArants. 
Lorsqua  la  document  ast  trop  grand  pour  Atra 
raproduit  an  un  saui  clichA,  11  ast  film*  A  partir 
da  I'angia  supAriaur  gaucha,  da  gaucha  A  droita, 
at  da  haut  an  bas,  an  pranant  la  nombra 
d'imagas  nAcassaira.  Las  diagrammas  suivants 
iilustrant  la  mAthoda. 


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IH  HOlJSi'  OF  ARMOUR 


;.y 


MARSHA,  i    -  XUNDHRS 

AinH^K  OF 

''h^auitJiU  h    :    "-Ddisj^'  ''Charles  and  His  /.a>vh,'' 

"for  the  Other  ISo/ s  Sak,^:'  .He. 


i'MilAWrLPHlA 

A.   \.  ROWLAND    1420  Chestnut  Street 

■••  •  >  CXCV!! 


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.1! "■■"— ■—'——*—'■*— MIIIIIHWlii  II  III 


THE  HOUSE  OF  ARMOUR 


BY 


MARSHALL  SAUNDERS 

AUTHOR  OF 

'Beautiful  Joer  ''Daisys  ''Charles  and  His  Lamb  " 

"For  the  Other  ^o/s  Sake,''  etc. 


PHILADELPHIA 

A.  J.  Rowland— 1420  Chestnut  Street 

MDCCCXCVII 


•  i 


If         fSilJ/    4r^^ 


/ 


Copyright  1897  by 
A.  J.  Rowland 


from  tbe  prees  of  tbe 

Bmedcan  SBapttot  pubHcatfon  Socfets 


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u  / 


\    I.    /7/^ 


-  ^. 


The  EDITH  and  LORNE  PIERCE 
COLLECTION  of  CANADI  ANA 


iiueetfs  University  at  Kingston 


THE  HOUSE  OF  ARMOUR 


EX  LIBRIS 

Ernest  J.  Hathaway 


Presented  by 
Maud  CSnan-)  Hathaway 


CONTENTS 

I.  Scotland  the  New.   . 

7 

II.  Mrs.  Macartney's  Impressions  of  Canada,   .    .     i6 

III.  Home  Again. 

25 

IV.  Mammy  TuNiprf? 

•'  35 

V.  A  Conversation  with  Tudy 

•'       43 

VI.  Mrs.  Colop  t,el  Loses  IIkr  Temper 54 

VII.  In  Dr.  Camperdovvn's  Office,     ...  g, 

VIII.  An  Interview  in  the  Library, .76 

IX.  The  Pavilion,    ...  «, 

07 

X.  Zeb  and  a  Tea  Party, 

XI.  Mrs.  Macartney  Gets  a  Fright ne 

XII.  Love  at  First  Sight.      .    . 

XIII.  Dr.  Camperdown  Makes  a  Morning  Call,  .    .  141 

XIV.  The  Stolen  Pocket-book, ^^2 

XV.  A  Lost  Mother, .g 

XVI.  The  Colonial  Cottage, j^g 

XVII.  MacDaly's  Dream.    . 

' «94 

XVIII.  Warm  Friends,      . 

' •    .     .     .     .  207 

XIX.  Brother  and  Sister  a 

' «...  210 

5 


^"^^mi 


"  CONTENTS 

XX.  Chased  as  a  Bird  Without  Cause,    .     .    .236 

XXI.  A  Quiet  Evening 246 

XXII.  Stargarde's  Mother,    .......       264 

XXIII.  On  Market  Day,       281 

XXIV.  An  Answered  Question 302 

XXV.  ZiLLA's  Rosebud, ^^ 

XXVI.  The  Misery  of  the  World, 328 

XXVII.  Not  to  be  Repeated,    .    . 

' 343 

XXVIII.  MisKEPT  Accounts, ^^i 

XXIX.  The  Micmac  Keeps  His  Charge,     ....  371 

XXX.  Love  will  Build  His  Lily  Walls,     ...  395 

XXXI.  MacDaly's  Lecture, .^g 

XXXII.  He  Kissed  Her  and  Promised, 432 

XXXIII.  A  Wayworn  Traveler, 

' 447 

XXXIV.  A  Fox  Chase, ^ 

XXXV.  Her  Wedding  Day ^ 

XXXVI.  Blind,      .     . 

477 

XXXVII.  Adieu  to  Frispi, g 

XXXVIII.  The  Ghost  Flower,  .     .  ,„a 

' 490 

XXXIX.  At  Last ; 

XL.  The  Fate  that  Pursues  Us.      .  e,, 

XLI.  In  Deep  Despair, - 

XLII.  Across  the  Sea, 


,.i 


;6 

•4 
I 

2 

6 
S 

5 


THE  HOUSE  OF  ARMOUR 


CHAPTER  I 


SCOTLAND   THE    NEW 


T  N  the  southeastern  extremity  of  Canada,  jutting 
out  into  the  blue  waters  of  the  Atlantic,  hold- 
ing on  to  the  great  mainland  of  North  America 
only  by  one  narrow  arm  or  isthmus,  is  the  green 
and  fertile  little  peninsula  called  Acadie,  land  of 
abundance,  by  the  French  and  Indians,  and  Nova 
Scotia,  New  Scotland,  by  the  baronet  Sir  William 
Alexander,  when  in  162 1  it  was  ceded  to  him  by 
his  most  worshipful  majesty,  King  James  the  First 
of  England. 

Projected,  pushed  out  from  the  mainland  as  it  is, 
the  province  is  pre-eminently  a  child  of  the  sea! 
Her  wealth  comes  from  it ;  her  traffic  is  over  it ;  it 
keeps  her  warm  in  winter ;  it  cools  her  in  summer. 
Old  Father  Atlantic,  savage,  boisterous  old  parent 
that  he  is,  dashing  so  often  the  dead  bodies  of  her 
children  against  her  rockbound  coasts,  is  yet  her 
chief  guardian  and  protector,  and  the  one  who 
loves  her  most. 


8 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


He  is  on  all  her  sides,  lapping  her  grassy  shores, 
breaking  against  her  frowning  cliffs,  and  running 
away  up  into  the  land,  wide,  blue  tongues  of  water, 
where  foreign  ships  can  ride  at  anchor  and  give  to 
lovely  Nova  Scotia  their  fairest  merchandise. 

Among  all  the  harbors,  among  all  the  bays — and 
they  are  long  and  numerous— can  none  be  found 
to  eclipse  the  chief  and  prince  of  them  all,  glorious 
old  Chebucto,  which  hundreds  of  years  ago  Indians 
paddled  over  and  called  the  greatest  of  waters.  It 
lies  almost  midway  between  the  two  ends  of  the  pe- 
ninsula and  sends  up  between  smiling  shores  a  long, 
wide,  crystal  expanse  of  water,  that  is  curved  like 
a  slightly  bent  arm  and  is  six  whole  miles  in 
length.  Clear  and  shining  it  comes  in  from  the 
sea,  washing  around  its  guardian  forts,  and  with  a 
strong,  full  tide  floating  the  most  ponderous  levia- 
thans of  the  deep  right  up  to  the  vvharves  of  the 
capital  town  of  the  province,  built  along  its  shores. 

At  all  times  white-winged  ships  sail  over  its 
waters.  Farther  north  the  bays  skim  over  and  har- 
bors freeze.  Here  the  waters  are  always  blue  and 
open,  and  tired  ships,  bruised  and  buffeted  by  the 
angty  winter  winds  of  the  Northern  Atlantic,  can 
always  steal  in  and  find  a  safe  and  pleasant  anchor- 
age. The  shores  are  gently  sloping,  the  hills  are 
wooded,  only  the  softest  breezes  blow  here.  Boreas 
and  all  his  gang  must  lurk  outside  the  harbor 
mouth. 


SCOTLAND   THE   NEW 


It  is  with  one  of  these  ships  that  we  have  to  do. 
Steadily  day  by  day  plowing  the  ocean  track 
that  leads  from  England  to  the  little  maritime 
province,  a  large  passenger  steamer  had  come. 
Soon  she  would  sight  the  harbor  lights,  would  make 
her  way  to  the  desired  haven. 

The  evening  was  cold  and  still ;  the  time  was 
early  December.  A  brilliant  moon  in  a  sky  of 
lovely  steely  blue  was  in  mid-heaven,  staring  down 
at  the  lighted,  busy  town,  the  silent  countiy,  the 
glistening  line  of  the  harbor,  and  the  crystal  sea 
beyond. 

The  hull  of  the  steamer  sat  on  the  waters  a  large, 
black  mass.  Its  decks  were  white  and  as  bright  as 
day  in  the  moonlight.  The  captain  stood  on  the 
bridge,  occasionally  speaking,  but  mostly  by  signs 
and  gestures  making  known  his  wishes.  A  few 
sailors  were  hurrying  about  the  decks  and  officers 
were  directing  preparations  made  for  entering  port. 

The  most  of  the  passengers  had  gone  forward 
and  stood  in  a  group  at  the  bow  of  the  ship, 
eagerly  straining  their  eyes  to  catch  the  first 
glimpse  of  the  town  they  were  approaching.  A 
few  lingered  behind.  Among  them  were  two 
people,  a  man  of  a  straight,  military  figure,  and  a 
young  girl  with  a  dark,  brilliant  face. 

The  man  observed  attentively  his  youthful  com- 
panion, making,  man  of  the  world  that  he  was, 
amused  comments  on  her  badly  suppressed  girlish 


lO 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


enthusiasm  at  being  again  within  sight  of  her 
native  land. 

It  was  absolutely  necessary  for  her  to  talk  and  it 
charmed  him  to  listen  to  her  sweet,  half-foreign 
voice.  At  first  she  had  seemed  to  him  to  be  thor- 
oughly French.  Then  he  had  found  grafted  on 
her  extreme  Frenchiness  manners  and  ways  so 
entirely  English  that  she  made  at  the  same  time 
an  interesting  and  an  amusing  combination  to  him. 

They  were  still  well  out  at  sea  when  she  looked 
over  her  shoulder  and  made  her  first  salutation. 

"There  is  Thrum  Cap,"  she  exclaimed,  "wicked 
old  Thrum  Cap,  thrusting  his  bald,  sandy  head  out 
of  the  water,  pretending  to  look  at  the  moon- 
beams. What  a  tale  the  old  villain  could  tell!" 
and  she  shook  her  glove  so  impatiently  at  him  that 
her  companion  was  moved  to  ask  what  power  the 
barren  sand  dune  had  to  call  forth  such  a  display 
of  emotion. 

"  There  are  treacherous  ledges  beneath  his  shim- 
mering waves,"  said  the  girl.  "Shall  I  tell  you 
the  tale  of  the  English  frigate  'La  Tribune,'  that 
was  wrecked  there  in  1797?" 

"  If  you  will  be  so  kind,"  he  said  gravely,  giving 
her  no  hint  that  he  was  already  acquainted  with 
the  story  of  the  disaster. 

At  the  conclusion  of  her  recital  he  gave  her  an 
inscrutable  look,  which  she  did  not  perceive. 

"  You   seem — ah — to  know  a  vast  deal  about 


M^ 


SCOTLAND   THE   NEW  n 

your  native  land,"  he  said  meditatively.  "How 
has  all  this  knowledge  been  acquired,  since  you 
left  here  at  such  an  early  age  ?  " 

"By  reading,  always  reading,"  said  the  girl  rest- 
lessly. 

"And  you  are  fond  of  your  country,"  he  said. 

"Passionately.      What    else    have   I    to   love? 
Father,  mother — both  are  gone." 

"  Your  friends,  acquaintances " 

"  Ah,  there  are  too  many.  Life  has  been  change 
to  me,  always  change.  Imagine  me  in  early  youth 
a  young  and  tender  plant.  I  throw  out  my  ten- 
drils and  attach  myself  to  this  object— it  is 
snatched  away  from  me;  to  that  one— it  too  is 
snatched  away  ;  and  finally  my  tendrils  are  all  gone. 
Suppose  the  most  charming  object  to  come  within 
my  reach,  I  have  no  tendril  to  grasp  it.  Nothing 
remains  but  my  country." 

"  That  will  all  change  some  day,"  said  the  man 
sententiously. 

"  In  what  manner  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  You  will  meet  some  man  in  whom  everything 
will  become  merged— friends,  country,  everything." 

"  You  mean  that  I  shall  fall  in  love  ?  " 

"I  do." 

"  Possibly,"  she  said  with  a  gav  laugh.  "  Prob- 
ably not." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Because,  as  I   have  told  you,  I  make  few  at- 


12 


THE   HOUSE  OF   ARMOUR 


tachments ;  and  if  I  did  I  never  stay  long  enough 
in  one  place  for  one  to  mature.  This  winter  I 
fancied  that  I  was  settled  in  Paris,  but  you  see  I  am 
summoned  here." 

"  Leaving  sorrowing  admirers  behind  you,"  said 
her  companion  imperturbably. 

"  According  to  me — ^yes." 

"You  would  not  overstate,"  he  said  hastily; 
"you  are  not  like  most  girls." 

"  Did  you  never  see  any  one  like  me  ?  "  she  asked 
vivaciously. 

"  No,"  he  said  quietly ;  "  you  are  an  anomaly.  A 
Frenchwoman  educated  among  English  people  and 
speaking  your  own  language  with  a  foreign  accent — 
half  of  you  goes  in  one  direction,  half  in  another." 

"Ah,  you  understand  me.  Captain  Macartney," 
said  the  girl  with  an  eager  gesture.  "You  will 
know  what  I  mean  when  I  say  that  at  times  I  seem 
to  feel  in  my  veins  the  gay  French  blood  running 
beside  the  sober  English." 

"Yes,  I  understand  you,"  he  said  with  a  smile, 
and  he  fixed  his  gaze  admiringly  on  her  dark  eyes 
that  were  wandering  restlessly  from  shore  to  shore 
of  the  entrance  to  the  beautiful  harbor. 

"Away  down  there  is  the  place  of  wrecks,"  she 
said,  waving  her  hand  toward  the  western  coast. 
"Some  of  my  countrymen  named  it  Saint  Cendre, 
and  the  careless  Nova  Scotians  corrupted  it  into 
Sambro.    Do  you  hear  that.  Captain  Macartney?  " 


.  ! 


*  t 


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SCOTLAND   THE   NEW 


13 


The  man's  glance  had  suddenly  dropped  to  the 
sea  and  he  was  staring  at  it  as  if  he  were  try- 
ing to  wrest  some  secret  from  it.  Now  he  roused 
himself.     "Yes,  Miss  Delavigne,  I  hear." 

"The  old  name  of  the  harbor  was  Chebucto," 
the  girl  went  on ;  "  Chebook-took — chief  haven. 
The  Indian  and  French  names  should  still  remain  ; 
it  was  unfair  in  Englishmen  to  drive  them  out.  Is 
not  Acadie  more  charming  than  Nova  Scotia,  and 
Chebucto  than  Halifax  ?  " 

"  Is  it  not  a  natural  thing  that  a  child  should  be 
named  after  its  father?  "  asked  Captain  Macartney. 

"After  its  own  father,  yes,"  said  the  girl  quickly; 
"after  a  stepfather,  no.  The  French  owned  this 
province;  the  English  drove  them  out." 

"They  deserved  to  go,"  said  Captain  Macartney 
with  some  show  of  warmth. 

"Ah,  yes,  they  did  at  last,"  said  the  girl  sadly. 
"  But  it  is  a  painful  subject ;  do  not  let  us  discuss 
it." 

"  May  I  ask  you  one  question  ?  "  he  said  eagerly. 
"  Do  you  approve  of  the  expulsion  of  the  Aca- 
dians  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"Then  you  are  the  most  fair-minded  and  im- 
partial Frenchwoman  that  I  ever  met." 

"Because  I  agree  with  you,"  she  said.  "Ah, 
Captain  Macartney,  you  are  like  the  rest  of  your 
sex.     Now  let  us  see  if  we  can  find  the  forts  lying 


14 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


cunningly  concealed  among  those  hills.  This  is 
the  most  strongly  fortified  town  in  Canada,  is  it 
not?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  with  an  inward  malediction 
on  her  fervor  of  patriotism.  "  On  that  island  is  a 
battery,  a  military  camp,  and  a  rifle  range." 

The  girl  surveyed  with  a  passionate  glance  the 
wooded  points  of  an  island  they  were  passing.  On 
a  narrow  spit  of  land  running  out  from  it  was  a 
Martello  tower  lighthouse. 

"  It  is  quite  as  round  and  quite  as  much  like  a 
plum  pudding  as  when  I  left  it,"  she  said  merrily; 
"  and  it  fixes  on  me  its  glittering  eye  in  the  same 
manner  that  it  did  when  I,  a  little  child,  went  down 
this  harbor  to  countries  that  I  knew  nothing  about, 
and  the  fog  bell  seemed  to  cry,  'Adieu,  adieu, 
another  gone  from  the  pleasant  land.'  " 

"But  you  have  returned,"  said  the  man,  biting 
his  lip  to  hide  a  smile. 

*'  I  have ;  many  have  not  You  have  read  of 
the  'Cajiens  of  Louisiana  and  other  places.  They 
went  but  did  not  return ;  their  sore  hearts  are  bur- 
ied among  strangers." 

"And  you,"  he  said  curiously,  "are  you  going 
to  remain  in  Canada?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  girl  softiy ;  "  I  shall  never  leave 
it  again." 

"But  your  guardians;   suppose  they "   he 

stopped  abruptly. 


I 


SCOTLAND   THE   NEW 


15 


IS 

it 
n 


[   ! 


I 


I 


"  I  shall  live  and  die  in  my  native  land.     They 
will  not  prevent  me,"  she  said  calmly. 

He  maintained  a  polite,  though  an  unsatisfied 
silence. 

"  We  are  looking  toward  the  east,  we  forget  the 
west,"  said  the  girl  turning  around.  -  See,  there  is 
York  Redoubt,  and  Sandwich  Point,  and  Falkland 
with  Its  chapel-dear  little  Falkland,  'a  nest  for 
fisher  people '-and  there  is  the  entrance  to  the 
Northwest  Arm." 

For  the  twentieth  time  that  evening  Captain 
Macartney  smiled  at  the  girl's  enthusiasm.  Her 
eyes  were  turned  lovingly  toward  the  narrow  strip 
of  salt  water  that  runs  up  like  an  arm  behind  the 
peninsula  on  which  the  city  of  Halifax  is  built. 

At  the  extremity  of  the  peninsula  is  one  of  the 
loveliest  natural  parks  in  the  world.  The  girl's 
enraptured  gaze  was  turned  toward  it  and  she  was 
just  about  to  launch  into  an  ardent  enumeration  of 
Its  attractions,  when  she  was  interrupted. 


CHAPTER  II 

MRS.  macartney's   IMPRESSIONS   OF   CANADA 

A  BRIGHT-FACED  lad  with  dark  blue  Irish 
eyes  and  glossy  hair  came  hurrying  down 
the  deck,  his  hands  thrust  into  the  pockets  of  his 
long  ulster,  his  whole  expression  that  of  one  suffer- 
ing from  extreme  cold. 

"Are  you  frostproof,"  he  exclaimed,  "that  you 
stand  here  motionless  in  this  stinging  air  ?  I  am  not 
surprised  at  you.  Miss  Delavigne,"  and  he  made 
her  a  low  bow,  "as  you  are  a  Canadian,  but  I  marvel 
at  Geoffrey,"  and  he  glanced  at  his  brother,  "  fresh 
from  India's  suns  as  he  is.  Shall  we  not  have  a 
last  promenade,  mademoiselle?  The  cold  is  bit- 
ing me  like  a  dog." 

Vivienne  laughed  and  placed  herself  beside  him, 
while  Captain  Macartney  murmured,  "There  go 
our  guns  ;  we  are  announcing  ourselves." 

"Will  you  not  tell  me.  Miss  Delavigne,"  said  the 
boy  in  a  confidential  tone  of  voice,  "about  this 
matter  of  signaling  ?  I  have  asked  Geoffrey  sev- 
eral times,  but  he  only  grunts  like  an  Irish  pig,  and 
gives  me  no  answer." 

"With  all  my  heart,  Mr.  Patrick,"  said  the  girl 
x6 


MRS.  macartney's    IMPRESSIONS   OF   CANADA     1/ 


with  a  businesslike  air.  "  From  the  outposts  at 
the  harbor  mouth  every  vessel  is  reported  to  the 
citadel." 

"  What  is  the  citadel  ?  "  he  asked. 

"It  is  the  fort  on  the  hill  in  the  middle  of  the 
town." 

"What  a  quarrelsome  set  you  Halifax  people 
must  be,"  said  the  boy,  "  to  require  so  many  forti- 
fications and  such  a  number  of  redcoats  to  keep 
you  in  order." 

"  Not  for  ourselves  do  we  need  them,  Mr. 
Patrick,"  she  said  teasingly,  "but  for  our  trouble- 
some guests  from  the  old  country."  Then  hastily, 
to  avoid  the  wordy  warfare  that  he  was  eager  to 
plunge  into,  she  went  on.  "  Up  there  is  an  island 
that  is  all  fort" 

"  Shades  of  my  uncle  the  general ! "  he  said ; 
"can  that  be  so?     Let  us  go  forward  and  see  it." 

"A  French  vice-admiral  who  ran  himself  through 
with  his  sword  is  buried  on  it,"  said  Vivienne,  as 
they  proceeded  slowly  along  the  deck. 

"  Hush  ! "  said  the  boy.  "  What  is  mamma  do- 
ing?" 

Vivienne  smiled  broadly.  Mrs.  Macartney,  the 
good-hearted,  badly  educated  daughter  of  a  rich 
but  vulgar  Dublin  merchant,  was  a  constant  source 
of  amusement  to  her.  Just  now  she  was  waddling 
down  the  deck,  driving  before  her  a  little  dapper 
Nova  Scotian  gentleman  who  had  become  known 

B 


i8 


THE   HOUSE   OF  ARMOUR 


to  them  on  the  passage  as  excessively  polite,  ex- 
cessively shy,  and,  like  Vivienne,  excessively  pa- 
triotic. 

Hovering  over  her  victim  like  a  great  good- 
natured  bird  she  separated  him  from  a  group  of 
people  standing  near,  and  motioned  him  into  the 
shadow  of  a  suspended  lifeboat 

"Ducky,  ducky,  come  and  be  killed,"  said 
Patrick  wickedly.  "  Do  you  know  what  mamma 
is  going  to  do.  Miss  Delavigne  ?  " 

"No,  I  do  not" 

"  She  is  going  to  cross-question  that  man  about 
Canada  in  such  a  ladylike,  inane  way  that  he  won't 
know  whether  he's  on  his  head  or  his  heels.  Come 
and  listen." 

"  Mrs.  Macartney  may  not  like  it" 

"  Yes,  she  will ;  the  more  the  merrier.  Come 
along." 

Vivienne  laughed  and  followed  him  near  the 
Irish  lady,  who  was  preposterously  and  outra- 
geously fat  A  living  tide  was  slowly  rolling  over 
her,  obliterating  all  landmarks  of  a  comely  person. 
Her  ankles  were  effaced ;  her  waist  was  gone.  Her 
wrists  had  disappeared,  and  her  neck  had  sunk 
into  her  shoulders.  Cheeks  and  chin  were  a  wide 
crimson  expanse,  yet  hei  lazy,  handsome  blue  eyes 
looked  steadily  out,  in  no  wise  affr^hted  by  the 
oncoming  sea  of  flesh. 

"  Mamma  always  does  this,"  said  Patrick  glee- 


1. 
ir 
k 
e 
s 


MRS.  macartney's   IMPRESSIONS   OF   CANADA     1 9 

fully.  "  She  doesn't  know  any  more  about  geog- 
raphy than  a  tabby  cat,  and  she  won't  learn  till 
she  gets  to  a  place.  Look  at  the  little  man  writh- 
ing before  her.  She  has  called  his  dear  land  Nova 
Zembla  six  times.     Listen  to  him." 

"  Madam,"  the  Nova  Scotian  was  saying,  "  this 
is  Nova  Scotia.  Nova  Zembla  is  situated  in  the 
Arctic  regions.  It  is  a  land  of  icebergs  and  polar 
bears.     I  scarcely  think  it  has  any  inhabitants." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Mrs.  Macartney, 
shaking  her  portly  person  with  a  good-natured 
laugh.  "The  names  are  so  much  alike  that  they 
confuse  me.  I  only  know  that  one  is  a  cold  place 
and  the  other  a  warm  one,  that  one  is  in  North 
America  and  the  other  in  South." 

"  Madam,"  he  said  desperately,  and  shifting  his 
feet  about  on  a  coil  of  rope  on  which  he  had  taken 
refuge,  "  Nova  Zembla  is  in  the  north  of  Europe. 
We  are  in  North  America." 

"Are  we?"  she  said  amiably;  "then  we  haven't 
come  to  Canada  yet?  " 

"  Oh  yes,  madam,  we  have.  Nova  Scotia  is  in 
Canada,  in  the  lower  southeastern  part — nearest 
England  you  know.  It  is  the  last  in  the  line  of 
provinces  that  stretch  from  the  Pacific  to  the  At- 
lantic." 

At  the  mention  of  the  Pacific,  Mrs.  Macartney's 
lumbering  fancy  attempted  to  take  flight  to  the 
coral  groves  of  Oceanica.     "  I  did  not  know  that 


20 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


I 


Canada   bordered  on   the    Pacific,"  she  returned 
dubiously.      "  How  near  is  it  ?  " 

"Just  three  thousand  six  hundred  and  sixty-two 
miles  away,  madam.     The  continent  lies  between 


us. 


t> 


"Oh  indeed,"  with  relief;  "and  Canada  you  say 
extends  all  the  way  across." 

"Yes,  madam." 

"  And  it  is  made  up  of  different  provinces  ?  " 

"Yes,  madam;  they  have  been  confederated." 

"And  this  one  is  called  Nova  Scotia?" 

"Yes,  madam." 

"  And  how  large  may  it  be  ?  "  cajolingly  ;  "  half 
as  large  as  one  of  our  Irish  provinces?  " 

"  Madam,"  trembling  with  indignation,  "  Nova 
Scotia,  with  the  island  at  its  northeastern  extremity, 
has  only  about  ten  thousand  square  miles  of  area 
less  than  all  Ireland  with  every  province  in  it." 

"  Bless  me ! "  she  exclaimed  in  unmitigated  sur- 
prise. Then  after  a  long  pause,  and  with  less  assur- 
ance, "The  island,  I  suppose,  is  Newfoundland?" 

"  No,  madam,"  dejectedly.  "  Newfoundland  is 
away  to  the  northeast  of  us — a  two  days*  voyage 
from  here." 

Mrs.  Macartney,  a  trifle  abashed,  decided  to 
abandon  the  somewhat  dangerous  ground  of 
Canada's  geographical  position,  and  confine  herself 
to  general  remarks.  She  started  out  gallantly  on 
a  new  career.     "  This  a  fine  place  to  live  in,  I  sup- 


MRS.  macartney's   IMPRESSIONS   OF   CANADA     21 

pose — plenty  of  sport.     You    have   hunting  and 
fishing  all  the  year  round,  don't  you  ?  " 

Somewhat  mollified  he  assented  unqualifiedly  to 
this.  Following  the  law  of  association,  she  dragged 
from  some  recess  in  her  mind  another  less  pleasing 
feature  of  the  hunting  world  in  Canada,  which  she 
had  somewhere  and  at  some  time  heard  mentionec^. 
"  Do  the  Indians  cause  you  very  much  trouble  ?  " 
she  asked  sympathetically. 

"  No,  madam  ;  our  aborigines  are  a  very  peace- 
ful set" 

"  How  long  may  it  be  since  your  last  massacre  ?  " 

"  I  don't  quite  catch  your  meaning,  madam." 

"  Don't  you  have  risings  and  rebellions  ?  I  had 
some  cousins  living  in  Halifax  when  I  was  a  girl — 
army  people  they  were,  and  they  told  me  that  they 
used  to  shoot  Indians  from  their  bedroom  win- 
dows." 

At  this  point  the  little  man  gave  tokens  of  a  gen- 
eral collapse. 

"  Perhaps  they  said  bears — I  really  believe  they 
did,"  Mrs.  Macartney  added  hastily,  by  way  of  re- 
storing his  suspended  animation  ;  "  in  fact  I  am 
sure  they  did,  and,"  confusedly,  "I  think  they 
said  the  bears  came  in  from  the  forests  after  dark, 
and  went  about  the  streets  to  pick  up  the  scraps 
thrown  from  the  *iouses,  and  it  was  quite  a  com- 
mon thing  to  see  a  night-capped  head  at  a  window 
with  a  gun  in  its  hand "  she  stopped  delightedly, 


,1 


22 


THE   HOUSE  OF   ARMOUR 


for  the  little  man  was  not  only  himself  again,  but 
was  laughing  spasmodically. 

"Madam,"  he  gasped  at  length,  "our  native 
Indians  fought  vigorously  when  this  province  was  a 
battleground  between  England  and  France.  Since 
the  founding  of  this  city  they  have  gradually 
calmed  down,  till  now  they  are  meeker  than  sheep. 
We  have  only  a  few  thousands  of  them,  and  they 
are  scattered  all  over  the  province,  living  in  camps 
in  the  woods,  or  in  small  settlements.  They  never 
do  anybody  any  harm." 

"  It  does  my  heart  good  to  hear  that,"  said  Mrs. 
Macartney,  with  a  jovial  laugh.  "  Truth  to  tell,  my 
scalp  has  been  feeling  a  trifle  loose  on  my  head  since 
we  came  in  sight  of  this  country.  And  if  the  Indians 
don't  worry  you  now,"  insinuatingly,  "  I  daresay 
you  are  able  to  make  quite  a  civilized  town  of 
Halifax." 

He  stifled  a  laugh.      "We  try  to,  madam." 

This  answer  was  too  indefinite  to  suit  Mrs.  Ma- 
cartney. A  suspicion  was  gaining  ground  in  her 
mind  that  Halifax  was  not  the  military  camp  and 
collection  of  log  houses  that  she  had  thought  it  to 
be. 

"  How  many  people  are  there  in  the  town  ? " 
she  inquired  guilelessly. 

"About  forty  thousand,  madam." 

"In  Halifax?"  she  asked  hesitatingly,  "or  in 
the  whole  province?" 


I 


It 

e 
a 
e 

Y 

1. 

Y 
s 
r 


MRS.  macartney's    IMPRESSIONS   OF   CANADA     23 

"  In  Halifax,  madam.  There  are  over  four  hun- 
dred and  forty  thousand  in  the  province." 

Mrs.  Macartney  was  considerably  staggered. 
"  And  do  you  have  shops  and  hotels  and  churches?  " 

"All  three,  madam." 

"  I  had  an  idea  that  Canadians  sent  to  England 
for  all  the  necessaries  of  life." 

"Just  turn  around,  madam,"  said  the  Nova  Sco- 
tian. 

Mrs.  Macartney  had  opened  her  mouth  to  make 
another  remark,  but  tlie  wordr>  died  away  on  her 
lips. 

Stretching  along  the  western  shore  a  busy,  pros- 
perous town  presented  itself  to  her  gaze.  Like  all 
other  towns  it  must  be  somewhat  grimy  and  dirty 
in  the  light  of  day.  At  night,  with  the  moon  hang- 
ing over  it  and  myriad  lights  flashing  from  the  tiers 
of  buildings  rising  one  above  another  on  the  slope 
of  a  long  hill,  it  was  like  a  fairy  city. 

All  along  the  shore  were  rows  of  wooden 
wharves  running  out  into  the  harbor  where  there 
were  moored  ocean  steamers,  coasting  vessels,  fish- 
ing boats,  ferry  steamers,  tugboats,  and  tiny  skiffs, 
some  of  which  darted  gayly  in  and  out  among  the 
wharves.  Some  of  the  ships  were  brightly  lighted, 
and  people  could  be  seen  moving  about  on  them. 

"  Surely,  surely,"  said  Mrs.  Macartney,  turning 
to  her  companion  in  unfeigned  amazement,  "I 
have  been  misformed  about  Canada.     One  of  its 


24 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


provinces  is  larger  than  Ireland,  and  its  chief  town, 
if  you  shut  your  eyes,  would  make  you  think  that 
you  were  looking  at  Dublin  itself.  Sure,  I  feel  like 
the  Queen  of  Sheba,"  and  with  a  comical  twinkle 
in  her  eye,  she  turned  around  to  see  who  had  laid 
a  hand  on  her  arm. 

Her  son  Patrick  stood  before  her.  "And  I 
feel  like  King  Solomon,"  he  exclaimed  ;  "so  many 
unruly  ladies  to  take  care  of  Miss  Delavigne 
won't  come  below  to  look  after  her  traps.  Mamma, 
will  you  come  and  point  out  yours  to  me  ?  " 

"Indeed,  no,  my  son,"  said  the  lady  amiably; 
"you  weren't  here  just  now  when  I  wanted  you, 
and  I  had  to  apply  to  this  gentleman,"  with  a  bow 
to  the  Nova  Scotian.  "  I'm  going  to  see  further 
sights,"  and  she  waddled  toward  a  better  place  of 
observation. 


CHAPTER  III 


I  ^ 


HOME   AGAIN 

/^NE  of  the  long  wharves  was  sprinkled  with 
V^  people  watching  the  "Acadian  "  come  in  from 
the  sea.  Custom-house  officials  were  there,  wharf 
laborers,  sailors,  loafers,  and  at  the  very  end  of  the 
wharf  was  a  group  of  fur-clad  individuals  who 
were  laughing,  joking,  stamping  their  feet,  or 
pacing  briskly  up  and  down  while  waiting  to 
welcome  the  friends  and  relatives  drawing  so  near 
to  them. 

With  them,  yet  a  little  apart  from  them,  stood 
a  man  who  did  not  move  from  his  place  and  who 
seemed  indifferent  to  the  extreme  cold.  He  was 
wrapped  in  a  black  fur  coat,  and  a  cap  of  the 
same  material— a  fine  and  costly  Persian  lamb- 
was  pulled  down  over  his  brows. 

His  pale,  cold  face  was  turned  toward  the  "Aca- 
dian," and  his  blue  eyes  scanned  without  emotion 
the  people  hurrying  to  and  fro  on  her  decks. 

When  the  steamer  swung  around  toward  the 
wharf,  he  watched  the  gangways  being  thrown  out 
and  the  living  tide  pouring  down  them  and  over- 
flowing in  all  directions.     The  air  was  full  of  greet- 

25 


26 


THE   HOUSE  OF   ARMOUR 


ings.  Mothers  and  fathers,  lovers  and  friends,  were 
looking  into  each  others'  eyes,  and  embracing  one 
another  tenderly.  Then  the  first  gush  of  salutation 
over  their  thoughts  reverted  to  business.  In  a 
mass  the  passengers  precipitated  themselves  upon 
the  custom  officials  and  eagerly  watched  for  and 
identified  their  luggage  as  it  was  rapidly  hoisted 
from  the  hold  of  the  steamer  to  the  wharf. 

The  man  in  the  fur  coat  pressed  his  way  through 
the  throng  of  people  and  gained  the  deck  of  the 
steamer.  The  Macartneys  and  Vivienne  Delavigne 
stood  together. 

The  girl  saw  him  coming,  went  to  meet  him,  and 
putting  out  her  hand  said,  "  How  do  you  do,  Mr. 
Armour?  " 

Composed  as  his  face  usually  was  she  yet  caught 
an  almost  instantly  repressed  look  of  repulsion. 
Unspeakably  chilled  by  it  and  the  brevity  and 
stiffiiess  of  his  greeting,  yet  too  proud  and  philo- 
sophical to  show  the  slightest  sign  of  disappoint- 
ment, she  said  steadily : 

"This  is  Mrs.  Macartney,  who  has  been  kind 
enough  to  chaperon  me  across  the  Atlantic." 

Mr.  Armour  bowed  politely,  his  cap  in  his  hand. 
Captain  Macartney  she  found  to  her  surprise  he 
already  knew,  though  he  spoke  to  him  almost  as 
formally  as  if  they  had  never  met  before. 

Patrick,  after  a  searching  glance  at  Mr.  Ar- 
mour, turned  away  muttering,  "Iceberg!" 


HOME   AGAIN 


27 


When  Mr.  Armour  in  a  few  brief  sentences 
thanked  Mrs.  Macartney  for  her  kindness  to  his 
ward,  she  said  cheerfully:  "She's  one  of  the  right 
sort  is  Miss  Delavigne.  She  is  the  only  girl  I  have 
ever  seen  that  would  have  satisfied  my  old  grand- 
mother. I  was  the  one  that  never  could  please 
her."  Mr.  Armour  stared  slightly  at  her  as  if  he 
did  not  understand  what  she  was  saying,  then  turn- 
ing to  Vivienne  he  said  shortly,  "  What  luggage 
have  you  ?  " 

"Four  boxes,"  she  replied;  "black  ones  with 
V.  D.  on  the  covers." 

"Will  you  come  with  me  to  find  them?"  he 
said,  and  after  a  brief  leavetaking  of  the  Macart- 
neys he  preceded  her  to  the  gangway. 

Vivienne  looked  regretfully  over  her  shoulders. 
Mrs.  Macartney  waved  her  hand  good-naturedly, 
Captain  Macartney  smiled  and  lifted  his  cap,  and 
Patrick  blew  a  kiss  from  the  tips  of  his  fingers  and 
exclaimed,  *'Au  revoir,  mademoiselle.^^ 

However  they  met  again.  After  a  time,  borne 
to  and  fro  in  the  surgings  of  the  crowd,  they  found 
themselves  in  the  shed  where  the  luggage  had  been 
taken  to  be  examined.  Vivienne  was  a  short  dis- 
tance from  Mrs.  Macartney,  who  had  seated  herself 
on  a  box  that  she  recognized  as  her  own.  Neither 
Captain  Macartney  nor  Patrick  was  in  sight  and 
she  was  surveying  in  huge  amusement  the  scene  of 
civilized  confusion  so  different  from  the  picture  of 


fl 


28 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


their  arrival  that  her  fancy  had  conjured  up — a 
few  logs  thrown  out  in  the  water,  their  descent 
thereupon,  and  welcome  by  swarms  of  half-clad 
savages  danc'ng  around,  their  tomahawks  in  hand. 

With  an  aniiable  interest  in  the  affairs  of  every 
one  with  whom  she  came  in  contact,  the  Irish  lady 
gazed  attentively  at  a  custom-house  official  near 
her  with  whom  a  Halifax  maiden  Wcis  reasoning, 
vainly  endeavoring  to  persuade  him  that  there  was 
nothing  dutiable  in  her  half  a  dozen  open  trunks, 
which  looked  suspiciously  like  containing  a  wedding 
trousseau. 

Mrs.  Macartney  at  intervals  took  a  hand  in  the 
argument,  and  looking  sympathetically  at  a  heap 
of  new  kid  gloves  that  the  officer  had  just  drawn 
from  some  hidden  recess,  she  remarked  in  a  whee- 
dling voice  :  "What's  the  good  of  being  under  the 
English  flag  if  one  is  so  particular  about  bits  of 
things  like  that.  Come  now,  officer,  let  them  pass. 
I'm  sure  the  duty  on  them  is  a  mere  trifle." 

"Thirty-five  per  cent,"  he  said,  throwing  up  his 
head  to  look  at  her. 

Her  thoughts  reverted  to  herself  and  she  ex- 
claimed :  "Faith,  I'll  be  ruined !  Have  I  got  to  pay 
you  that  for  the  privilege  of  covering  my  hands  in 
cold  weather?  " 

"Yes'm,"  he  said  smartly,  "that  is  if  your  gloves 
have  not  been  worn."  Then  fixing  her  with  his 
appraising  eye,  as  if  he  gathered  from  her  comfort- 


HOME   AGAIN 


29 


able  appearance  that  she  might  be  one  to  indulge 
in  soft  raiment  and  fine  linen,  he  rattled  ofif  a  list 
of  articles  which  she  would  have  done  well  to  have 
left  behind  her. 

"We've  got  to  protect  our  merchants,  madam. 
If  you've  brought  any  description  of  silk  gloves, 
kid  gloves,  mitts,  silk  plush,  netting  used  for  manu- 
facture of  gloves,  we'll  assess  you.  If  you've  any 
silk  cords,  tassel  girdles,  silk  velvets  except  church 
vestments " 

"That's  a  very  likely  thing  for  me  to  have,"  she 
interrupted  indignantly. 

"Silk  manufactures,"  he  said,  "including  gros 
grains,  satins,  sarcenet,  Persians,  poplins,  ribbons, 
shawls,  ties,  scarfs,  bows,  handkerchiefs,  mantillas, 
"  and  he  gabbled  on  till  his  breath  failed  him. 

Mrs.  Macartney  was  speechless  for  the  first  time 
in  her  life.  She  turned  from  him  with  a  shudder, 
as  if  to  say,  you  are  a  dangerous  man,  and  hailed 
an  agile  young  official  who  was  pursuing  a  comet- 
like career  over  trunks  and  boxes  and  leaving  a 
trail  of  white  chalk  marks  behind  him. 

At  her  signal  he  bore  down  upon  her  box  with 
bewildering  rapidity,  opened  it,  and  with  long  cun- 
ning fingers  extracted  therefrom  every  dutiable 
article.  The  new  gloves  still  stitched  together,  the 
silk  and  linen  and  dainty  trifles  still  in  the  wrap- 
pers in  which  they  had  come  from  the  Dublin  shops, 
lay  in  a  heap  before  him. 


rl1 


30 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


I 


It ' 

i 

,  I 


"Twenty  dollars,"  he  ejaculated,  and  she  had 
with  his  assistance  mechanically  abstracted  from 
her  purse  a  sufficient  amount  of  the  foreign  cur- 
rency to  pay  him,  and  he  had  given  her  box  the 
pass  mark  and  was  away  before  she  realized  the 
extent  of  the  weakness  which  she  had  displayed  in 
not  uttering  one  word  of  protest 

With  a  sigh  of  dismay  she  turned  and  met  Vivi- 
enne's  eye.  They  had  had  many  jokes  together 
and  with  a  simultaneous  impulse  they  began  to 
laugh. 

"'Tis  a  country  of  surprises,  me  dear  girl,"  said 
Mrs.  Macartney  wagging  her  head.  "Ah,  Geoffrey, 
hear  a  tale  of  distress,"  and  looking  at  Captain 
Macartney,  who  suddenly  appeared  before  them, 
she  poured  her  troubles  in  his  always  sympathetic 
ear. 

Vivienne  was  listening  with  interest  when  amid 
all  the  bustle  and  excitement  she  felt  her  guardian's 
cold  eye  upon  her. 

"Your  boxes  are  marked,"  he  said ;  "will  you 
come  now?" 

With  a  hasty  good-bye  to  her  friends  the  girl 
followed  him  from  the  building. 

A  few  sleighs  and  cabs  were  drawn  up  in  the 
shadow  of  a  square  warehouse  that  stood  at  the 
head  of  the  wharf  Before  one  of  these  sleighs 
Mr.  Armour  stopped.  A  coachman  in  an  enor- 
mous fur  cape  and  with  his  head  half  hidden  in  a 


HOME   AGAIN 


31 


heavy  cap  hurried  from  his  seat  and  went  to  the 
horse's  head. 

Mr.  Armour  assisted  Vivienne  into  the  sleigh, 
then  gathered  up  the  reins  in  his  hands  and  placed 
himself  beside  her.  The  coachman  sprang  to  the 
back  seat  and  they  passed  slowly  under  a  black 
archway  and  emerged  into  long  Water  Street  that 
follows  closely  the  line  of  wharves  running  from 
one  end  of  the  old  colonial  town  to  the  other. 

Once  upon  the  street  the  horse,  a  beautiful  black 
creature,  impatient  from  his  long  time  of  waiting 
and  feeling  lively  in  the  keen  frosty  air,  struck  into 
a  quicker  pace.  Smoothly  and  swiftly  they  slipped 
over  the  snowy  streets,  sometimes  between  rows  of 
lighted  shops  whose  windows  sparkled  with  frost, 
and  sometimes  by  dwelling  houses  whose  partly 
closed  curtains  afforded  tantalizing  glimpses  of 
light  and  good  cheer  within. 

The  girl's  heart  beat  rapidly.  Home — home — 
the  magic  word  was  ringing  in  her  ears.  Earnestly 
peering  out  from  her  wraps  to  observe  what  changes 
had  taken  place  during  her  absence,  she  scarcely 
noticed  the  silence  of  the  man  beside  her,  except 
when  some  eager  question  leaped  to  her  lips  and 
was  instantly  repressed  by  an  upward  glance  at  his 
frigid  face. 

Cold  as  a  statue,  dumb  as  a  mummy,  he  sat. 
One  might  have  thought  him  a  dead  man  but  for 
his  handling  of  the  whip  and  reins.     He  seemed 


m 


32 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


to  be  plunged  in  a  profound  and  painful  reverie, 
and  did  not  once  break  the  silence  from  the  time 
of  their  leaving  the  wharf  until  their  arrival  within 
sight  of  his  own  house. 

They  had  passed  beyond  the  city  limits  and  on 
each  side  of  them  stretched  wide  snowy  fields 
bounded  by  low  stone  walls.  They  were  approach- 
ing the  shores  of  the  Arm,  where  many  of  the 
merchants  of  the  town  had  erected  substantial, 
comfortable  houses  for  themselves. 

When  they  stopped  before  a  gate  and  the  man 
jumped  out  to  open  it,  Mr.  Armour  pulled  himself 
together  with  an  effort  and  looked  down  at  Vivi- 
enne  with  a  confused,  "I  beg  your  pardon." 

"I  did  not  speak,"  she  said  calmly. 

*'I  thought  you  did,"  he  replied;  then  touching 
his  horse  with  the  whip  they  again  set  out  on  their 
way,  this  time  along  a  winding  road  bordered  by 
evergreenso 

"It  was  kind  in  you  to  come  and  meet  me," 
said  Vivienne  when  they  drew  up  before  a  large, 
square  white  house  with  brilliantly  lighted  win- 
dows. 

Mr.  Armour  murmured  s:»me  unintelligible  reply 
that  convinced  her  he  had  not  heard  what  she  said. 

"What  curious  behavior,"  she  reflected.  "He 
must  be  ill." 

Mr.  Armour  was  looking  at  the  closed  sleigh 
standing  before  the  door. 


I 


wistmtmmm^ 


HOME  AGAIN 


33 


"Who  is  going  out  to-night?  "  he  asked  of  the 
man. 

"  Mrs.  Colonibel  and  Colonel  Armour,  sir,"  said 
the  coachman  touching  his  cap.  "  There  is  a  ball 
at  Government  House." 

Mr.  Armour  turned  to  Vivienne  and  extended  a 
helping  hand,  then  drawing  a  latchkey  from  his 
pocket  he  threw  open  a  large  inner  door. 

Vivienne  stepped  in — stepped  from  the  bitter 
cold  of  a  Canadian  winter  night  to  the  warmth  and 
comfort  of  tropical  weather.  The  large  square 
hall  was  full  of  a  reddish  light.  Heavy  curtains, 
whose  prevailing  color  was  red,  overhung  each 
doorway.  A  group  of  tall  palms  stood  in  one 
corner  and  against  them  was  placed  the  tinted 
statue  of  a  lacrosse  player.  Pictures  of  Canadian 
scenery  hung  on  the  walls  and  over  two  of  the 
doorways  hung  the  heads  and  branching  antlers  of 
Nova  Scotian  moose. 

Her  quiet  scrutiny  of  the  hall  over  she  found  Mr. 
Armour  was  regarding  her  with  a  look  of  agitation 
on  his  usually  impassive  face. 

"Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  take  off  your  hat?" 
he  said  ;  "it  shades  your  face." 

The  girl  looked  at  him  in  surprise  and  removed 

the  large  felt  hat  that  she  wore.     Somewhat  to  her 

amusement  she  discovered  a  huge  mirror  mounted 

on  a  marble   bracket  at   her  elbow.     A   passing 

glance  at  it  showed  that  her  smooth  black  hair  was 

c 


-! 


!f 


34 


THE    HOUSE   OF    ARMOUR 


I 


not  dishevelled,  but  was  coiled  in  the  symmetrical 
rolls  imperiously  demanded  by  Dame  Fashion  as 
she  reigned  in  Paris.  Her  face  beneath  was  dark 
and  glowing,  her  eyes  composed  as  she  would  have 
them,  and  her  resemblance  to  her  dead  father  was 
extraordinary. 

She  looked  expectantly  at  Mr.  Armour.  He  bit 
his  lip  and  without  speaking  drew  aside  a  velvet 
portiere  with  a  hand  shaking  from  some  strong  and 
overmastering  emotion  and  signed  to  her  to  enter 
the  drawing  room. 


\ 


•ical 
1  as 
lark 
ave 
ivas 

bit 
vet 
md 
ter 


J 


CHAPTER  IV 


MAMMY   JUNIPER 


"I  yiVIENNE  advanced  a  few  paces  and  looked 
V     into  a  luxuriously  furnished  apartment,  whose 
prevailing  glimmer  of  red  caught  and  held  her  eye 
painfully. 

Two  gentlemen,  the  one  old,  the  other  young, 
were  seated  in  arm-chairs  drawn  up  on  each  side 
of  the  blazing  fire.  They  were  both  in  evening 
dress  and  both  held  newspapers  in  their  hands. 
The  younger  man  lifted  up  his  eyes,  threw  a  glance 
of  unmitigated  astonishment,  first  at  Mr.  Armour 
then  at  Vivienne,  and  rose  hurriedly  from  his  seat. 

Vivienne  scarcely  noticed  him.  Her  attention 
was  directed  to  Colonel  Armour,  who  looked  for 
an  instant  not  the  well-preserved  man  of  sixty  that 
he  ospired  to  be,  but  the  much  cider  man  that  he 
really  was. 

He  started  nervously,  l/s  face  turned  a  sickly 
yellow,  and  he  clutched  the  :  rms  of  his  chair  as  if 
unable  to  raise  himself.  But  it  was  only  for  a 
brief  space  of  time.  He  regained  his  composure 
and  stood  up,  towering  a  whole  head  above  his 
son3,  who  were  by  no  means  short  men.     Leaning 

35 


1 


f^ 


m  i 


36 


THE    HOUSE    OF   ARMOUR 


one  hand  heavily  on  the  back  of  his  chair  he  fixed 
his  eye-glass  in  place  and  staring  at  his  elder  son 
said  with  emphasis :  **  One  of  your  pleasant  sur- 
prises, eh,  Stanton  ?  Will  you  introduce  me  to  this 
young  lady?" 

The  pleading,  almost  agonized  expression  with 
which  Mr.  Armour  had  regarded  his  father  died 
away. 

"Do  you  not  know  her?"  he  said  in  a  harsh, 
sad  voice. 

"H'm — judging  from  a  faint  resemblance"  (and 
here  the  suspicion  of  a  sneer  passed  over  Colonel 
Armour's  features),  "I  should  say  that  she  night 
be  related  to  a  young  man  once  in  my  employ." 

Vivienne  watched  the  two  men  with  breathless 
interest.  At  last  she  stood  face  to  face  with  her 
guardians,  and  to  Colonel  Armour,  as  head  of  the 
house,  some  acknowledgment  was  due.  Therefore 
when  Mr.  Armour  turned  to  her  with  the  words, 
"Allow  me  to  present  to  you,  Miss  Delavigne,  my 
father.  Colonel  Armour,  and  my  brother  Valen- 
tine," she  made  them  each  a  pretty  salutation  and 
said  gracefully  that  she  was  rejoiced  to  have  the 
opportunity  of  thanking  them  for  their  kindness  to 
her  through  so  many  years. 

Colonel  Armour  stared  at  her  through  his  gold- 
rimmed  glass  and  Mr.  Valentine,  after  making  her 
a  profound  bow,  stood  bolt  upright  and  confided  to 
his  moustache  :  "  No  raw  schoolgirl  this ;  a  most 


MAMMY   JUNIPER 


37 


self-possessed  young  person.  What  will  Flora  say  ? 
Merciful  heaven,  here  she  is  !" 

A  portly,  golden-headed  woman,  whose  beauty 
was  beginning  to  wane,  stood  motionless  in  the 
doorway.  One  hand  was  clutched  in  the  shining 
satin  folds  of  her  dress,  while  with  the  other  she  held 
up  an  ostrich  fan,  over  which  her  large  blue  eyes 
peered  wrathfully  at  the  girl's  slim,  graceful  figure. 

"Flora!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Armour  warningly. 

The  lady  started,  dropped  her  fan  to  her  side, 
and  burst  into  an  hysterical  laugh.  "How  you 
startled  me !  I  did  not  know  that  there  was  a 
stranger  present.     Who  is  this  young  lady?" 

••You  know  who  she  is,"  said  Mr.  Armour 
severely,  while  Mr.  Valentine  muttered  wickedly, 
••Ananias  and  Sapphira." 

••It  is  Miss  Delavigne,  I  suppose,"  she  replied 
peevishly ;  •'  but  why  did  you  not  let  us  know  that 
she  was  coming  by  this  steamer?  I  was  unpre- 
pared. How  do  you  do?"  and  she  extended  her 
finger  tips  to  Vivienne.  ••Did  you  have  a  good 
passage?  You  must  have  some  tea.  I  will  speak 
to  the  servants,"  and  she  disappeared. 

In  a  few  minutes  she  returned,  a  shining,  spar- 
kling vision,  and  quite  mistress  of  herself.  ''I  have 
spoken  to  the  table  maid  ;  she  will  see  that  you 
are  attended  to.  Will  you  excuse  us  if  we  leave 
you?  We  have  an  engagement  for  this  evening, 
and  I  have  to  pick  up  a  friend  on  the  way." 


! 


rfi 


i' 


38 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"I  should  be  sorry  to  keep  you,"  said  Vivienne 
calmly ;  "  and  I  am  tired  and  would  like  to  go  to 
bed." 

"A  room  is  being  made  ready  for  you,"  said 
Mrs.  Colonibel  graciously.  "  I  hope  that  you  may 
sleep  well.  Come  Uncle  and  Valentine,  we  are 
late." 

Colonel  Armour  and  Mr.  Valentine  came  from 
the  room,  drew  on  fur  topcoats,  and  with  a  polite 
good-night  to  Mr.  Armour  and  Vivienne  left  them 
standi*!^  in  the  hall. 

At  t.i^  isparture  Mr.  Armour  fell  into  a  kind  of 
reverie  tlia'.  lasted  some  minutes.  Then  he  pulled 
himself  together,  apologetically  ushered  Vivienne 
into  the  dining  room,  and  bowed  himself  away. 

Vivienne  sat  at  the  table  drinking  tea  and  eating 
bread  and  butter  and  wondering  languidly  what 
Mrs.  Colonibel  had  said  to  the  fat  maid-servant,  who 
was  waiting  on  her  in  great  curiosity  and  some 
slight  disrespect. 

"  I  have  finished,"  she  said  at  length,  fixing  her 
large,  dark  eyes  on  the  woman  who  was  trotting 
aimlessly  between  the  table  and  the  sideboard. 
"Will  you  show  me  to  my  room?" 

"Yes,  miss,"  said  the  woman  shortly,  and  gather- 
ing together  Vivienne's  wraps  she  conducted  her 
up  a  broad,  easy  staircase  to  a  second  square  hall, 
also  luxuriously  furnished  and  having  a  circular 
opening  which  looked  down  on  the  one  below  it 


o» 


MAMMY   JUNIPER 


39 


"The  pink  room's  been  got  ready  for  you,  miss," 
said  the  woman,  throwing  open  the  door  of  a 
chamber  blazing  with  rose  color. 

Vivienne  half  shut  her  dazzled  eyes  and  walked 
into  it. 

"The  coachman's  going  to  bring  up  your  boxes 
when  he  comes  from  the  stable,"  said  the  maid. 
"Can  I  do  anything  for  you?" 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  Vivienne;  "you  may 
bring  me  some  hot  water  in  the  morning." 

"It's  here,*'  said  the  woman  briefly,  and  walking 
behind  a  screen  she  pointed  to  a  basin  with  shining 
faucets. 

"That  is  nice,  to  have  hot  water  pipes  in  one's 
room,"  said  Vivienne. 

"It's  all  over  the  house,"  said  the  woman,  and 
after  hanging  Vivienne's  cloak  in  a  closet  she  with- 
drew. 

The  girl  walked  to  the  window  and  looked  out  at 
the  snow-laden  trees.  "It  seems  I  wasn't  ex- 
pected," she  murmured  sadly.  "It  seems  to  me 
I'm  lonely,"  she  continued,  and  putting  up  her 
hands  to  her  eyes  she  tried  to  check  the  tears  fall- 
ing from  them. 

A  few  hours  later  she  was  sleeping  a  light, 
unhappy  sleep  in  her  huge  pink  bed,  her  mother's 
portrait  pressed  to  her  breast.  Suddenly  the  por- 
trait seemed  to  turn  to  a  tombstone,  that  was 
crushing  her  to  death. 


i 


I 


^! 


!; 


40 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


She  awoke,  gasping  for  breath,  and  lifting  her 
heavy  eyelids  saw  that  some  one  was  standing  over 
her  and  that  a  heavy  hand  was  laid  on  her  breast. 
She  pushed  the  hand  aside  and  sat  up. 

Such  an  ugly,  grotesque  figure  of  a  black  woman 
as  stood  over  her ;  her  face  like  midnight,  her  fea- 
tures large  and  protruding,  a  white  nightcap  perched 
on  the  top  of  her  grizzled  tufts  of  hair,  bunches  of 
white  cotton  wool  sticking  out  of  her  ears,  a  pad- 
ded dressing-gown  enveloping  her  shaky  limbs,  her 
trembling  fingers  shading  her  candle. 

"You  are  dropping  wax  on  my  bed,"  said  the 
girl  coolly. 

The  old  woman's  face  contracted  with  rage,  and 
drawing  back  she  looked  as  if  she  were  about  to 
hurl  hei  brass  candlestick  at  the  occupant  of  the 
bed. 

"You  cannot  frighten  me,"  said  Vivienne 
proudly;  "do  not  try  it." 

The  black  woman  burst  into  a  series  of  revilings 
and  imprecations  mixed  with  references  to  fire  and 
brimstone,  coffins,  murderers,  fiery  chariots,  and 
burning  in  torment,  to  which  Vivienne  listened  with 
curled  lip. 

"You  are  a  capital  hater.  Mammy  Jupiter,"  she 
said  ironically,  "and  I  suppose  the  vials  of  your 
wrath  have  been  filling  up  all  these  years.  But  I 
really  wish  you  would  not  disturb  me  in  the  middle 
of  the  night." 


h  '■ 


r  I  ■ ! 


MAMMY   JUNIPER 


41 


The  colored  woman  glared  at  her.  Then  de- 
positing her  candlestick  on  the  floor  she  knelt  on  a 
small  rug  and  began  to  sway  and  groan,  bending 
herself  almost  double  in  her  paroxysm  of  wrath. 

"Poor  soul,"  said  "v^ivienne,  turning  her  head 
aside,  "her  attention  has  wandered  fron.  .^le.  I 
suppose  it  is  a  shock  to  her  to  find  the  daughter  of 
Etienne  Delavigne  in  one  of  the  beds  of  the 
sacred  house  of  Armour.     But  I  must  be  firm." 

Mammy  Juniper  was  apostrophizing  some  absent 
person  under  the  name  of  Ephraim.  In  spite  of 
the  coldness  of  the  room  where  Vivienne  had 
thrown  open  the  v/indow,  the  perspiration  streamed 
down  her  face.  In  a  fierce,  low  voice  and  with  a 
wildly  swaying  body  she  chanted  dismally,  "O 
Ephraim,  thou  art  oppressed  and  broken  in  judg- 
ment. Because  Ephraim  hath  made  many  altars  to 
sin  altars  shall  be  unto  him  to  sin.  Thy  glory  shall 
fly  away  like  a  bird.  Ephraim  shall  receive  shame 
— shall  receive  shame." 

"  I  wonder  who  Ephraim  is  ?  "  murmured  Vivi- 
enne. 

Mammy  Juniper  was  wringing  her  hands  with  an 
appearance  of  the  greatest  agony.  "Though  they 
bring  up  their  children,  yet  will  I  bereave  them, 
that  there  shall  not  be  a  man  left  Ephraim  shall 
bring  forth  his  children  to  the  murderer — to  the 
murderer!  oh,  my  God!"  Her  vjice  sank  to 
a  husky  whisper.     She  fell  forward  and  pressed  for 


11 


42 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


\ 


V       I 


an  instant  the  knotted  veins  of  her  throbbing  fore- 
head to  the  cold  floor. 

Then  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  extending  her 
clasped  hands  and  in  a  voice  rising  to  the  tones  of 
passionate  entreaty  exclaimed,  "Take  with  you 
words  and  turn  to  the  Lord.  He  shall  grow  as  the 
lily  and  cast  forth  his  roots  like  as  Lebanon ;  his 
beauty  shall  be  as  the  olive  tree.  Ephraim  shall 
say,  'What  have  I  to  do  any  more  with  idols?'  " 

"  Mammy  Juniper,"  said  Vivienne,  **  this  is 
enough.  If  you  want  to  recite  any  more  passages 
from  the  Bible  go  to  your  own  room." 

The  old  woman  paid  no  attention  to  her. 

"Go!"  said  Vivienne,  springing  from  the  bed 
and  pointing  to  the  candlestick. 

Mammy  Juniper  mowed  horribly  at  her,  yet  like 
a  person  fascinated  by  a  hated  object,  she  stretched 
out  her  hand,  took  the  light,  and  began  to  retreat 
backward  from  the  room. 

Vivienne  gazed  steadily  at  her.  "  See,  I  shall 
not  lock  my  door,"  she  said  nonchalantly,  "  and  I 
shall  be  asleep  in  ten  minutes  ;  but  don't  you  come 
back  again.     Do  you  hear  ?  " 

The  old  woman  made  an  inarticulate  sound  of 
rage. 

"You  understand  me,"  said  Vivienne.  "Now 
go  to  bed,"  and  waving  the  disturber  of  her  peace 
over  the  threshold  she  noiselessly  closed  the  door. 


CHAPIER  V 


A   CONVERSATION    WITH   JUDY 

ALL  of  Vivienne's  unhappiness  passed  away 
with  her  night's  sleep.  On  waking  up  to 
the  bright,  still  beauty  of  a  clear  December  morn- 
ing her  naturally  high  spirits  rose  again. 

"The  Armours  have  really  little  power  to  afflict 
me,"  she  said,  getting  out  of  bed  with  a  gay  laugh. 
"  My  attachment  to  them  is  altogether  a  thing  of 
duty,  not  affection.  If  they  do  not  care  for  me  I 
will  leave  them.  That  is  a  simple  matter,"  and 
going  to  the  window  she  drew  in  a  long  breath  of 
the  fresh  morning  air  and  noted  with  delight  the 
blueness  of  the  sky,  the  whiteness  of  the  snow,  and 
the  darkness  of  the  sombre  evergreens  before  the 
house,  where  a  number  of  solemn  crows  sat  cawing 
harshly  as  if  asking  for  some  breakfast. 

*'Ah,  it  is  cold,"  she  exclaimed,  drawing  her 
gown  about  her,  "and  I  am  late.     I  must  hurry." 

When  she  at  last  left  her  room  the  breakfast  bell 
had  long  since  rung.  She  speedily  made  her  way 
down  the  staircase,  glancing  critically  through  open 
doors  as  she  passed  them. 

"  The  furnishings  are  too  gorgeous,  too  tropical," 

^3 


44 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


she  murmured ;  "  and  flaming  colors  are  every- 
where. Evidently  the  person  who  furnished  this 
house  had  a  barbaric  fondness  for  bright  shade?  " 

On  arriving  in  the  lower  hall  she  paused  before 
the  dining-room  door.  She  could  hear  the  tin- 
kling of  china  and  murmur  of  voices  within.  Then 
with  a  composure  not  assumed  but  real  she  drew 
aside  the  curtain  and  entered  the  room. 

Mrs.  Colonibel,  handsome  and  imposing  in  a 
bright  blue  morning  gown,  sat  behind  the  silver 
coffee  urn  at  the  head  of  the  table.  She  knew 
that  Vivienne  had  entered  yet  she  took  up  a  cream 
jug  and  gazed  as  steadfastly  into  its  depths  as 
though  she  expected  to  find  a  treasure  there. 

The  comers  of  Vivienne's  lips  drooped  mis- 
chievously. "For  all  exquisite  torture  to  which 
one  can  be  subjected,"  she  reflected,  "  commend 
me  to  that  inflicted  on  woman  number  two  who 
enters  the  house  of  woman  number  one  who  does 
not  want  her." 

Beside  Mrs.  Colonibel  sat  her  daughter — a  small 
misshapen  girl,  with  peering  black  eyes  and  elfish 
locks  that  straggled  down  each  side  of  her  little 
wizened  face  and  that  she  kept  tossing  back  in  a 
vain  endeavor  to  make  them  hide  the  lump  on  her 
deformed  back. 

"What  a  contrast,"  thought  Vivienne  with  a 
shudder,  "  between  that  poor  child  and  her  blonde 
prosperous-looking  mother." 


iii-.    t 


A   CONVERSATION    WITH    JUDY 


45 


Colonel  Armour,  tall  and  stately,  but  looking 
not  quite  so  young  as  he  had  in  the  lamplight  of 
the  night  before,  sat — as  if  in  compensation  for  not 
occupying  the  seat  at  the  foot  of  the  tab^  — on 
Mrs.  Colonibel's  right  hand.  Holding  himself  bolt 
upright  and  stirring  his  coffee  gently,  he  was 
addressing  some  suave  and  gracious  remarks  to  the 
table  in  general. 

Stanton  Armour,  who  sat  opposite  Mrs.  Colonibel, 
made  no  pretense  of  listening  to  him.  Plunged  in 
deep  reflection  he  seemed  to  be  eating  and  drink- 
ing whatever  came  to  hand. 

Valentine,  gay  and  careless,  alternately  listened 
to  his  father  and  tried  to  balance  a  piece  of  toast 
on  the  edge  of  a  fork. 

"A  happy  family  party,"  murmured  Vivienne; 
"what  a  pity  to  disturb  it !" 

The  table  maid,  who  was  slipping  noiselessly 
around  the  room,  saw  her  but  said  nothing.  Mr. 
Valentine  raising  his  eyes  caught  the  maid's  curious 
glances  and  turned  around.  Then  he  hurriedly  got 
up. 

"Good-morning.  Flora,  where  is  Miss  Delavigne 
to  sit?" 

In  some  confusion  she  ejaculated :  "I  do  not 
know;  Jane  bring  another  cha'r.  ' 

"Is  there  no  place  for  Miss  Delavigne?"  said 
Mr.  Armour  in  cold  displeasure.  "Put  the  things 
beside  me,"  '  iid  he  turned  to  the  maid,  who  with 


r 


N 


I 


46 


THE    HOUSE    OF    ARMOUR 


the  greatest  alacrity  was  bringing  from  the  cup- 
board plates,  knives,  and  forks,  enough  for  two  or 
three  people. 

"What  may  I  give  you?  "  he  went  on  when 
Vivienne  was  seated.  "Porridge?  We  all  eat  that. 
No,  not  any?  Shall  I  give  you  some  '?ak? 
Flora,  Miss  Delavigne  will  have  some  coffee. 

Vivienne  sat  calmly — Mr.  Armour  on  one  side 
of  her,  his  father  on  the  other — taking  her  break- 
fast almost  in  silence.  A  few  remarks  were  ad- 
dressed to  her — Ihey  evidently  did  not  wish  her  to 
feel  slighted — to  which  she  replied  sweetly,  but 
with  so  much  brevity  that  no  one  was  encouraged 
to  keep  up  a  conversation  with  her. 

There  was  apparently  nothing  in  the  well-bred 
composure  of  the  people  about  her  to  sugp"  an- 
tipathy, yet  her  sensitiveness  on  being  thro  nto 
a  hostile  atmosphere  was  such  that  she  could  credit 
each  one  with  just  the  degree  of  enmity  that  was 
felt  toward  her. 

After  all,  what  did  it  matter?  She  would  soon  be 
away ;  and  her  dark  face  flushed  and  her  eyes  shone, 
till  the  surreptitious  observation  of  her  that  all  the 
other  people  at  the  table — except  Mr.  Armour — 
had  been  carrying  on  bade  fair  to  become  open 
and  unguarded. 

Mrs.  Colonibel's  heart  stirred  with  rage  and  un- 
easiness within  her.  She  hated  the  girl  for  her 
youth  and  distinction,  and  with  bitter  jealousy  she 


^JU** 


A   CONVERSATION    WITH    JUDY 


47 


noted  her  daughter's  admiring  glances  in  Vivienne's 
direction. 

"Judy,"  she  said,  when  breakfast  was  over  and 
the  different  members  of  the  family  were  sepa- 
rating, "will  you  do  something  for  me  in  my 
room  ?  " 

"  No,  mamma,"  said  the  girl  coolly,  and  taking 
up  the  crutch  beside  her  chair  she  limped  to  Vivi- 
enne's side.  "Are  you  going  to  unpack  your 
boxes.  Miss  Delavigne  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am." 

"May  I  go  with  you?  I  love  to  see  pretty 
things." 

"  Certainly,"  murmured  Vivienne ;  and  suiting 
her  pace  to  that  of  the  lame  girl  she  went  upstairs 
beside  her. 

"  Bah,"  said  Judy,  halting  at  the  door  of  the 
pink  room,  "they  have  put  you  in  this  atrocious 
rose-bed." 

*'  Pink  is  a  charming  color,"  said  Vivienne. 

"Yes,  in  moderation.  Come  upstairs  and  see 
my  rooms,"  and  she  slowly  ascended  another  stair- 
case. 

Vivienne  followed  her  to  the  story  above,  and 
through  a  third  square  hall  to  a  long  narrow  apart- 
ment running  the  whole  length  of  the  northern  side 
of  the  house. 

Judy  threw  open  the  door.  "  Here,"  she  said, 
with  a  flourish  of  her  hand,  "having  everything 


48 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


Ir  ^^'  ! 


!•: 


1^     f'l 

i 


against  me,  I  yet  managed  to  arrange  a  sitting 
room  where  one  is  not  in  danger  of  being  struck 
blind  by  some  audacious  blue  or  purple  or  red. 
What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

Vivienne  glanced  about  the  exquisitely  furnished 
room.      "  It  is  cliarming." 

**  Come  in,"  said  Judy,  hospitably  pulling  up  a 
little  white  chair  before  the  blazing  fire.  "We'll 
have  a  talk." 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  went  on,  seating  herself 
beside  Vivienne,  "this  used  to  be  a  lumber  room? 
I  got  Stanton  to  come  up  one  day  and  look  at  it — 
he  is  as  artistic  in  his  tastes  as  mamma  is  inartis- 
tic— and  he  suggested  all  this.  We  cleared  out 
the  old  furniture  and  put  in  those  yellow  panes  of 
glass  to  simulate  sunshine,  and  got  this  satin  paper 
because  it  would  light  up  well,  and  he  had  the 
white  and  gold  furniture  made  for  me.  The  cream 
rugs  were  a  present  from  Uncle  Colonel.  Here  is 
my  bedroom,"  and  she  hobbled  to  a  door  at  the 
western  end  of  the  room  and  threw  it  open  for  a 
full  view  of  the  room  beyond. 

"What  a  dainty  place!"  said  Vivienne. 

"An  idea  strikes  me,"  exclaimed  Judy,  hurrying 
to  the  other  end  of  the  apartment.  "  Look  here," 
and  she  opened  a  second  door. 

Vivienne  surveyed  a  small  empty  room. 

"Wouldn't  you  like  this  for  a  bedroom?"  said 
Judy  excitedly.     "  We  can  share  this  big  room  in 


i 


-V^^ 7 


A    CONVERSATION    WITH    JUDY 


49 


d 
n 


common.  You  can  read  and  work  here,  for  I  am 
sure  you  and  I  would  pull  well  together,  and  like 
me  you  will  just  hate  sitting  downstairs  all  the 
time." 

Vivienne  smiled  at  her.  "  I  should  disturb  you 
— and  besides  I  have  been  put  in  the  room  below." 

"You  needn't  mind  leaving  it,"  said  Judy. 
"  Mamma  will  be  delighted  to  get  you  out  of  it ; 
it  is  one  of  the  guest  rooms." 

"  Oh,  in  that  case,"  said  Vivienne,  "  I  will  accept 
your  invitation.  You  will  speak  to  Mrs.  Colo- 
nibel?" 

"I  will  go  now,"  said  Judy,  hurrying  from  the 
room.  Vivienne  sat  down  by  the  fire  and  dropped 
her  head  upon  her  hands.  "  I  am  not  likely  to  be 
here  long,"  she  said,  "so  it  doesn't  matter." 

"  Mamma  is  delighted,"  she  heard  presently  in 
a  shrill  voice.  "  I  knew  she  would  be.  There  is 
some  furniture  that  can  be  put  in  the  room,  and 
when  the  servants  finish  their  work  below  they  will 
come  up  and  arrange  it.  What  fun  we  shall 
have " 

Vivienne  looked  kindly  at  the  little  cynical  face. 

"  'Till  our  first  row,"  said  Judy,  letting  her  crutch 
slip  to  the  floor.  "  I  suppose  I  shall  hate  you  as  I 
do  eveiy  other  body  who  has  a  straight  back." 

Vivienne  did  not  reply  to  her,  and  she  went  on 
peering  restlessly  into  her  face.  "  Well,  what  do 
you  think  of  us  ?  " 

D 


^^^ 


immm 


'   , 


:' 


I 


50 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  This  is  not  my  first  acquaintance  with  the  Ar- 
mours," said  Vivienne  evasively. 

"  Ah,  you  were  once  here  as  a  Httle  child ;  but 
you  don't  remember  much  about  them,  do  you?" 

"I  remember  Mammy  Juniper,"  said  Vivienne, 
with  a  laugh,  "  and  that  she  hated  me  and  my  fa- 
ther's memory.  I  see  that  she  still  keeps  up  her 
old-womanish  habit  of  prow)'  g  about  the  house  at 
night." 

"Yes,"  said  Judy  peevishly ;  "a  d  if  we  forget 
to  lock  our  doors  we  find  her  praying  over  us  at 
unearthly  hours." 

"  She  has  been  a  faithful  servant  to  the  family, 
hasn't  she  ?  "  said  Vivienne. 

"  \nd  she  has  a  diabolical  temper,"  said  Judy. 

"  Don't  you  think  that  she  is  crazy?  " 

"  A  little  perhaps,  though  I  think  that  she  pre- 
tends to  be  more  so  to  cover  her  inconsistencies. 
She  belongs  to  the  Armours,  body  and  soul,  and 
prides  herself  on  being  a  model  Christian.  I  say 
the  two  things  don't  go  together.  The  Armours 
haven't  been  famed  for  devotion  to  the  cause  of  re- 
ligion for  some  years." 

"  She  talks  about  Ephraim,"  said  Vivienne ;  *'  who 
is  he?" 

**  Ephraim  is  Uncle  Colonel,"  said  Judy,  with  a 
chuckle.  "Did  she  mention  his  having  made  a 
covenant  with  the  Egyptians?" 

"No." 


A    CONVERSATION    WITH    JUDY 


51 


*'  He  has  ;  and  the  Assyrians  are  the  people  of 
Halifax.  If  you  can  get  her  started  on  that  you'll 
be  entertained,"  and  Judy  began  a  low,  intensely 
amused  laugh,  which  waxed  louder  till  Vivienne  at 
last  joined  her  in  it. 

"  It's  too  funny,"  said  Judy,  wiping  the  tears 
from  her  eyes.  "  I  can  even  make  Stanton  laugh 
telling  him  about  it,  and  he's  about  the  glummest 
man  I  know." 

"Is  he  always  as,  as " 

"As  hateful?"  suggested  Judy  cheerfully. 

"As  reserved,"  went  on  Vivienne,  "as  he  is 
now?" 

"Always  for  the  last  few  years.  He  gets  too 
much  of  his  own  way  and  he  worries  over  things.  I 
asked  him  the  other  day  if  he  had  committed  a 
murder.  My,  how  he  glowered  at  me !  He's  the 
worst- tempered  man  I  know." 

"  He  looks  as  if  he  had  plenty  of  self-control," 
said  Vivi'^-nne. 

"  Wait  till  you  see  him  in  one  of  his  rages — not 
a  black  one,  but  a  white,  silent  Armour  rage.  He's 
master  absolute  here,  and  if  any  one  opposes  him — 
well,  it's  a  bad  thing  for  the  family.  You  know,  I 
suppose,  that  he  has  pushed  Uncle  Colonel  out  of 
the  business?  " 

"  Has  he  ?  "  said  Vivienne.      "  I  didn't  know  it." 
"  Didn't  he  write  you  while  you  were  away?  " 
"Business  letters  only,"  said  the  girl,  "and  they 


'U' 


m 


i 


52 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


were  always  written  by  Mr.  Stanton,  even  when  I 
first  went." 

"  Well,     Uncle    Colonel    is    out,"    said    Judy.- 
"Stanton  won't  even  let  him  live  in  the  house." 

"  Why  he  was  here  last  evening  and  this  morn- 
mg.' 

*'  Oh  yes,  he  gets  his  meals  here.  He  and  Val 
live  down  in  the  cottage  ;  look,  down  there  among 
the  trees,"  and  she  pointed  to  the  gabled  roof  of  a 
handsome  colonial  building  some  distance  below 
the  house. 

Vivienne  got  up  and  went  to  the  window. 

"  It's  a  great  surprise  to  us  all  to  have  you  come 
home  so  unexpectedly,"  said  Judy;  "to  mamma, 
especially,  though  she  has  always  dreaded  it.  Did 
you  know  you  were  coming?" 

"No,"  said  Vivienne,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  I  thought  that  you  were  to  be  kept  abroad  now 
that  you  have  grown  up.  I  don't  know  why  Stan- 
ton brought  you  back.  Does  he  mean  to  keep  you 
here?" 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"  It  would  be  a  great  deal  pleasanter  for  you  to 
live  abroad,"  said  Judy,  "and  for  us  too.  Your 
coming  is  sure  to  revive  unpleasant  memories." 

Vivienne  turned  around  swiftly.  "What  do  you 
mean  by  unpleasant  memories?** 

Judy  stared  at  her.  "  Don't  you  know  all  about 
yourself — about  your  father?  " 


A   CONVERSATION   WITH   JUDY 


53 


"  I  know  that  my  father  was  obliged  to  work  for 
his  living,"  said  Vivienne  proudly,  ''and  that  he 
served  Colonel  Armour  long  and  faithfully.  I  see 
nothing  unpleasant  about  that." 

"  No,  that  is  not  unpleasant,"  said  Judy.  "  But 
on  your  word  of  honor,  do  you  know  nothing 
more?  " 

'•  I  am  at  a  loss  to  understand  your  meaning," 
said  Vivienne  coldly. 

"And  you  will  continue  at  a  loss,"  ieplied  her 
new  friend  doggedly,  "for  I  shall  tell  you  nothing 
further.  I  am  usually  fond  of  gossip  ;  now  I  shall 
hold  my  tongue." 

Vivienne  looked  into  the  little,  shrewd,  not  un- 
kindly face  and  smiled.  "You  are  an  odd  girl. 
How  old  are  you  ?  " 

"Sixteen  when  I'm  not  sixty,"  said  the  younger 
girl  wearily.  "  I  hate  to  live  and  I  hate  to  die  ; 
and  I  hate  everything  ai.    everybody." 

"Why  do  you  talk  like  that?"  asked  Vivienne 
caressingly. 

"  Suppose  instead  of  being  straight  and  tall  and 
distinguished-looking,  you  were  an  ugly  little  toad 
like  me — how  would  you  talk  ?  " 

"You  have  beautiful  eyes,"  said  Vivienne,  touch- 
ing Judy's  cheek  softly  with  her  fingers. 

"Don't  you  pity  me,"  said  Judy  threateningly. 
"Don't  you  pity  me  or  I  shall  cry,"  and  slipping  on 
her  knees  beside  Vivienne  she  burst  into  tears. 


1/ 


m 


CHAPTER  VI 


MRS.    COLONIBEL   LOSES    HER   TEMPER 


i  ■  c  r 


■■■I 


»[1 


|t  'I 


ft    i  ! 


EARLY  in  the  afternoon  Vivienne  was  on  her 
knees  before  her  boxes  when  a  housemaid 
knocked  at  her  door  and  announced  to  her  that 
there  was  a  "person"  downstairs  who  wished  to  see 
her. 

Quickly  descending  the  staircase  she  found  Mrs. 
Macartney  looking  longingly  at  those  chairs  in  the 
hall  that  were  most  comfortably  upholstered.  As 
soon  as  she  caught  sight  of  Vivienne  she  sank  into 
a  Turkish  arm-chair  that  was  all  cushions  and  pad- 
ding. 

"I'm  glad  to  see  you,  me  child,"  she  said  in  a 
hearty,  boisterous  way.  "Sure" — with  a  mis- 
chievous twinkle  in  her  eye — "your  friends  must  be 
a  disreputable  set,  for  when  I  mentioned  your 
name  the  domestic  looked  as  if  she'd  like  to  shut 
the  door  in  me  face,  and  there's  another  watching 
me  from  behind  those  curtains,  so  I  thought  to  my- 
self I'll  not  sit  down,  for  fear  of  complications,  till 
me  dear  girl  arrives." 

Vivienne  suppressed  a  smile  as  she  glanced  over 
the   somewhat   fantastic   attire  with   which    Mrs. 
54 


MRS.  COLONIBEL   LOSES    HER   TEMPER 


55 


Macartney  bade  defiance  to  the  Canadian  cold  and 
said,  "Will  you  come  into  the  drawing  room?" 

"Yes,  me  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Macartney  amiably, 
getting  up  and  waddling  across  the  hall,  "if  you'll 
kindly  keep  an  eye  on  me  and  see  that  I  don't  put 
any  of  the  bric-a-brac  in  my  pocket.  And  how  do 
you  find  yourself  after  the  voyage?  Could  you 
help  me  out  of  this  jacket,  me  dear?  I'm  hot  with 
the  cold.  Just  like  bakers'  ovens  are  the  houses 
here,  and  if  I  had  a  fan  I'd  be  grateful  indeed." 

Vivienne  got  her  a  fan,  then  they  entered  upon  a 
a  long,  cozy  chat,  which  consisted  largely,  to  Vivi- 
enne's  amusement,  of  Mrs.  Macartney's  impres- 
sions of  Halifax. 

"Such  a  dirty  town,  me  dear.  Troth,  your 
houses  are  brown  and  your  streets  are  brown,  and 
I'd  like  to  get  at  them  with  soap  and  water;  and 
such  tinder  boxes  of  houses — wood,  wood — ^you'll  all 
burn  up  some  day  if  the  few  brick  and  stone  ones 
aren't  the  salvation  of  ye  ;  and  your  lovely  sur- 
roundings, me  dear ;  the  drives  and  the  views, 
they're  magnificent,  just  howling  with  beauty — but 
what  is  this?"  in  a  tragic  tone  and  staring  open- 
mouthed  before  her. 

There  was  the  rustle  of  a  silk  gown,  and  looking 
up  Vivienne  saw  Mrs.  Colonibel  standing  before 
them,  and  remembered  that  she  had  heard  her  say 
that  it  was  her  day  at  home. 

Her  face  was  pale  and  her  manner  plainly  said. 


56 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


I  I'd  'i% 

IP 

m 

m 


lit 


it 


% 


ii 


'I' 
.  f- 
■  1- 

i; 


"  How  dare  you  invite  a  guest  of  yours  into  the 
sacred  precincts  of  my  drawing  room?"  Then 
sweeping  her  long  train  after  her  she  passed  on. 

The  drawing  room  was  a  long  apartment  having 
an  archway  in  the  middle,  from  which  hung  heavy 
velvet  curtains,  that  however  did  not  keep  from 
Vivienne's  ears  and  those  of  her  guest,  the  impa- 
tient rustling  of  Mrs.  Colonibel's  gown  as  she 
fidgeted  to  and  fro. 

Vivienne  was  deeply  annoyed,  yet  Mrs.  Macart- 
ney's face  was  so  ludicrous  that  she  had  difficulty 
in  concealing  a  smile  as  she  murmured  :  "  Would 
you  feel  more  comfortable  in  another  room  ?  " 

"  Faith,  no,  me  dear  ;  sit  it  out.  You've  as  good 
right  to  be  here  as  she  has.  Jufc  hear  her  now ; 
she  isn't  mad,  is  she  ?  "  This  last  remark  was  in  a 
stage  whisper,  which,  judging  from  subsequent 
jerkings  and  sweepings  to  and  fro,  was  perfectly 
audible  to  the  occupant  of  the  other  part  of  the 
room. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Vivienne  hurriedly ;  and  she 
plunged  into  a  series  of  questions  where  Mrs.  Ma- 
cartney quite  lost  breath  in  trying  to  follow  her. 

The  girl  congratulated  herself  upon  the  fact  that 
the  Irish  woman  was  as  good  natured  as  she  was 
happy-go-lucky.  An  incident  that  would  have 
sent  another  woman  flying  from  the  house  short- 
ened her  stay  not  at  all.  She  lingered  on  chatting 
enjoyably  about  Captain  Macartney,  who  was  en- 


MRS.  COLONIBEL   LOSES   HER   TEMPER 


57 


gaged  in  some  military  duties,  and  Patrick,  who 
was  heartbroken  because  he  had  an  appointment  to 
keep  which  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  call  upon 
mademoiselle  that  day,  throwing  meanwhile  curi- 
ous glances  at  the  curtain  which  divided  them  from 
Mrs.  Colonibel. 

For  nearly  two  hours  Mrs.  Colonibel  had  a  suc- 
cession of  visitors.  Their  voices  were  distinctly 
audible  to  the  two  people  sitting  in  the  front  part 
of  the  room,  and  they  could  plainly  hear  a  great 
deal  of  the  cheerful  afternoon  gossip  and  the  occa- 
sional tinkling  of  teacups. 

About  five  o'clock,  interesting  as  was  her  con- 
versation with  Vivienne,  Mrs.  Macartney  began  to 
show  signs  of  weariness.  Her  nostrils  dilated 
slowly  as  if  she  were  inhaling  the  fragrance  of  her 
favorite  Bohea,  and  her  countenance  said  plainly, 
"  I  smell  hot  cakes." 

"What  shall  I  do?"  thought  Vivienne  ;  "hospi- 
tahty  says.  Get  a  cup  of  tea  for  your  guest.  Pru- 
dence says,  You  had  better  not  try,  lest  you  fail. 
However,  I  will ;  she  shall  have  some  if  I  make  it 
myself,"  and  excusing  herself,  she  got  up  and 
quietly  went  out  through  the  hall  to  the  back 
drawing  room. 

Mrs.  Colonibel  sat  a  little  removed  from  the  fire 
beside  a  tiny,  prettily  equipped  tea-table.  Two 
ladies  only,  Vivienne  was  thankful  to  see,  were  in  the 
room — genuine  Canadian  women,  looking  rosy  and 


58 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


:'l: 


■A  tl 


i 


comfortable  in  their  winter  furs.  Vivienne  went 
up  to  the  table  and  stood  in  quiet  gracefulness. 
"Mrs.  Colonibel,  will  you  give  me  a  cup  of  tea?" 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  the  lady,  with  alacrity ; 
"won't  you  have  some  cake  too  ?  " 

"Thank  you,"  murmured  Vivienne,  and  with  a 
quiet  bow  she  proceeded  carefully  through  the  hall. 

"What  a  charming  girl,"  she  heard  one  of  the 
ladies  exclaim  ;  "is  she  staying  with  you  ?  " 

"Yes,"  returned  Mrs.  Colonibel ;  "she  is  a  poor 
young  girl  whom  Mr.  Armour  has  educated.  She 
won't  be  here  long,  I  fancy.  For  various  reasons 
we  are  obliged  to  keep  her  in  the  background." 

Vivienne  stopped  for  an  instant.  "  For  various 
reasons,"  she  repeated  angrily.  Then  with  an 
effort  she  became  calm  and  went  on  to  be  saluted 
by  Mrs.  Macartney  with  the  remark  that  she  was  a 
jewel. 

Vivienne  watched  the  Irish  lady  gratefully  drink- 
ing her  tea,  then  she  ^elped  her  on  with  her  wraps 
and  saw  her  depart 

Mrs.  Colonibel  had  yet  to  have  her  brush  with 
Vivienne,  and  the  opportunity  came  at  the  dinner 
table.  She  seized  the  moment  when  the  three  men 
were  engaged  in  a  political  discussion,  and  leaning 
over,  said  in  a  low  voice  :  "  Who  was  that  fat,  vulgar 
looking  woman  that  was  calling  on  you  this  after- 
noon?" 

Vivienne  held  up  her  head  and  looked  her  well 


MRS.  COLON  I  BEL    LOSES    HER    TEMPER 


59 


in  the  eyes.  "  Oh,  you  mean  the  lady  for  whom  I 
got  the  tea  ;  Mrs.  Macartney  is  her  name." 

"  Mrs.  Macartney — where  did  you  meet  her?" 

"  In  Paris." 

"She  is  Irish,  I  judge  by  her  brogue." 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Vivienne  mischievously ;  "  one 
would  know  by  her  tongue  that  she  is  Irish,  just  as 
one  would  know  by  yours  that  you  are  Cana- 
dian." 

Mrs.  Colonibel  cast  down  her  eyes.  Vivienne 
had  noticed  her  affected  manner  of  speech,  and  re- 
alized that  she  shared  in  the  ambition  of  many  of 
her  women  friends  in  Halifax  who  strove  to  ca<^ch 
the  accent  of  the  English  within  their  gates  in  order 
that  they  too  might  be  taken  for  English  people 
rather  than  Canadians. 

Presently  she  went  on  with  a  slight  sneer.  "  Mrs. 
Macartney — an  Irish  woman — no  relation  I  sup- 
pose to  Captain  Macartney,  of  the  Ninetieth,  who 
was  stationed  here  five  years  ago  ?  " 

"She  is  his  stepmother." 

"His  stepmother!"  and  Mrs.  Colonibel  raised 
her  voice  to  such  a  pitch  that  Colonel  Armour  and 
his  sons  broke  off  their  discussion,  and  Judy  ex- 
claimed in  peevish  surprise,  "  What  is  the  matter 
with  you,  mamma?" 

Mrs.  Colonibel  paid  no  attention  to  any  of  them 
but  Vivienne.  "His  stepmother,  did  you  say?" 
she  repeated,  fixing  the  girl  with  angry  eyes. 


9Bi 


60 


THE   HOt/SE   OF   ARMOUR 


I      1 


"  I  did,"  replied  Vivienne  calmly. 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  so  ?  how  is  it  that 
you — You  did  it  on  purpose !" 

Mrs.  Colonibel  was  in  a  temper.  Sitting  at  the 
head  of  her  own  table,  apparently  at  peace  with 
herself  and  all  mankind,  she  had  flown  into  a  fit  of 
wrath  about  something  which  no  one  in  the  least 
understood. 

Vivienne  disdained  to  reply  to  her. 

Mrs.  Colonibel  half  rose  from  the  table,  her  face 
crimson,  her  whole  frame  shaking.  "  Stanton,"  she 
cried,  "she" — pointing  a  trembling  finger  at  Vivi- 
enne— "  has  deliberately  insulted  me  in  your  house  ; 
I  will  not  endure  it,"  and  bursting  into  a  flood  of 
tears  she  hurried  from  the  room. 

An  extremely  awkward  silence  followed  Mrs. 
Colonibel's  departure,  which  was  broken  at  last  by 
a  laugh  from  Judy. 

"  Don't  be  shocked.  Miss  Delavigne,''  she  said  ; 
'*  mamma  has  been  known  to  do  that  before.  She 
is  tired  I  think.  What  is  the  trouble,  anyway? 
Fortunately  the  servants  have  left  the  room.  Pass 
me  the  nuts,  Val." 

Vivienne's  black  eyes  were  resting  on  her  plate, 
and  she  did  not  speak  until  she  found  that  evcn- 
one  at  the  table  was  waiting  for  her  answ  ••. 

"  Mrs.  Macartney  called  on  me  to-da  iie  said, 
addressing  Mr.  Armour.  "I  sat  with  i  '  r  in  the 
front  drawing   room.     Mrs.   Colonibel  passeu  us. 


^ 


MRS.  COLON F BEL   LOSES    HER   TEMPER 


6l 


but  so  quickly  that  I  did  not  introduce  her.  Later 
on  she  gave  me  a  cup  of  tea  for  Mrs.  Macartney. 
That  is  all,"  and  Vivienne  half  shrugged  her  shoul- 
ders and  closed  her  lips. 

"Macartney,  did  you  say?"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Valentine.     "  Not  Geoffrey  Macartney's  mother?  " 

"Yes." 

"What  a  joke ! "  said  the  young  man.  " Macart- 
ney used  to  be  a  frequent  visitor  here.  Indeed,  he 
once  spent  two  months  with  us  when  he  broke  his 
leg  while  tobogganing  down  our  slide  with  Mrs. 
Colonibel.  She  was  a  great  friend  of  his  in  those 
days — a  great  friend.  Naturally  she  would  have 
liked  to  meet  his  mother.  Did  not  Mrs.  Macart- 
ney mention  all  this  to  you  ?  " 

"  She  does  not  know  it,"  said  Vivienne  ;  "  of  that 
I  am  sure.  Captain  Macartney  is  a  reticent  man. 
By  the  way,"  she  went  on  vivaciously,  "you  saw 
Captain  Macartney  on  the  steamer  last  evening, 
Mr.  Armour ;  why  did  you  not  tell  Mrs.  Colonibel 
that  his  mother  had  chaperoned  me?  " 

Mr.  Valentine  burst  into  low,  rippling,  and  in- 
tensely amused  laughter.  "  Ha,  ha !  old  man, 
there  is  one  for  you.  We  shall  see  that  you  are 
the  one  to  be  blamed." 

"  I  never  thought  of  it,"  said  Mr.  Armour 
heavily,  and  with  the  ghost  of  a  smile. 

"You  might  have  told  us,"  went  on  Mr.  Valen- 
tine complainingly.      "  You  know  we  all  liked  Ma- 


62 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


'V 


;         1    ' 

1! 


cartney.  I  thought  he  was  in  India.  Poor  Flora ! 
It's  a  lucky  thing  for  you,  Miss  Delavigne,  that  you 
kept  that  bit  of  information  till  she  got  out  of  the 
room.     What  is  he  doing  here  ?  " 

"  He  has  exchanged  into  another  regiment,"  said 
Vivienne.     "  His  young  brother  is  with  him  too." 

"  Indeed,  we  must  call ;  and  now  cannot  we 
leave  the  table  ?     I  want  to  go  to  town." 


m 
I 

m 


1 


jra ! 

you 

the 


said 

DO." 

we 


CHAPTER  VII 

IN    DR.  CAMPERDOWN's    OFFICE 

THE  principal  hotels  of  the  town  of  Halifax  are 
situated  on  Hollis  Street,  and  Hollis  Street 
is  next  Water  Street,  and  Water  Street  is  next  the 
harbor. 

On  a  dull,  windless  morning,  when  the  snow 
clouds  hung  low  in  the  air,  Captain  Macartney, 
encased  in  a  dark  uniform  and  looking  exceed- 
ingly trim  and  soldieriike,  stepped  out  of  one  of 
these  hotels,  where  he  had  been  to  see  his  step- 
mother and  brother,  and  walking  slowly  along  the 
street  looked  up  at  the  high  buildings  on  each  side 
of  him,  attentively  scrutinizing  doorplates  and  signs 
as  he  did  so. 

There  at  last  was  the  name  he  wanted,  on  the 
door  of  a  large  building  that  looked  rusty  and 
shabby  between  its  smart  brick  and  stone  neigh- 
bors— Dr.  Camperdown,  Surgeon.  He  repeated 
the  words  with  a  satisfied  air,  then  making  his  way 
up  a  dark  staircase,  pushed  open  a  door  that  had 
the  polite  invitation  "Walk  in"  on  it  in  staring 
letters.  He  found  himself  in  a  large,  bare  room, 
with  a  row  of  chairs  set  about  its  walls.     Unfortu- 

63 


■: 


!•!■ 


■I  . 


\     ! 


!? 


1.1 


64 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


nately  for  him,  he  was  not  the  first  on  the  field. 
Six  of  the  chairs  were  occupied.  Three  old  wo- 
men, two  young  ones,  and  an  old  man,  all  poorly 
dressed  and  looking  in  their  shabby  clothes  only 
half  protected  from  the  cold,  eyed  with  small  ap- 
proval the  smartly  dressed  officer  who  might  prove 
to  be  a  first  claimant  of  the  doctor's  attention.  To 
their  joy  he  took  a  seat  at  the  back  of  the  room, 
thereby  giving  notice  that  he  was  prepared  to  wait 
his  turn. 

They  all  looked  up  when  the  door  of  an  inner 
apartment  was  opened.  An  ugly,  sandy  head  ap- 
peared, and  a  sharp  "Next"  was  flung  into  the 
room.  One  of  the  old  women  meekly  prepared  to 
enter,  stripping  off  some  outer  wrap  which  she 
dropped  on  the  chair  behind  her. 

"Take  your  cloud  with  you,"  said  one  of  the 
younger  women  kindly  ;  "he'll  let  you  out  by  an- 
other door  into  the  hall." 

After  what  seemed  to  Captain  Macartney  an  un- 
conscionably long  time,  the  door  was  again  opened, 
and  another  "Next"  was  ejaculated.  His  jaws 
ached  with  efforts  to  suppress  his  yawns.  He 
longed  in  vain  for  a  paper. 

Finally,  after  long,  weary  waiting  and  much  in- 
ternal grumbling,  all  his  fellow-sufferers  had  one  by 
one  disappeared,  and  he  had  the  room  to  himself. 
The  last  to  go,  the  old  man,  stayed  in  the  inner 
office  a  longer  time  than  all  the  others  combined. 


IN    DR.  CAMPERDOWNS   OFFICE 


65 


and  Captain  Macartney,  fretting  and  chafing  with 
impatience,  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  walking  up  and 
down  the  room,  stared  at  everything  in  it,  singly 
and  collectively.  He  found  out  how  many  chairs 
were  there.  He  counted  the  cobwebs,  big  and  lit- 
tle, high  up  in  the  corners.  He  discovered  that 
one  leg  of  the  largest  press  was  gone,  and  that  a 
block  of  wood  had  been  stuck  in  its  place,  thereby 
rendering  it  exceedingly  shaky  and  unsteady.  He 
speculated  on  the  number  of  weeks  that  had  elapsed 
since  the  windows  had  been  washed.  He  won- 
dered why  they  should  be  so  dirty  and  the  floor  so 
clean,  when  suddenly,  to  his  immense  relief,  the 
door  opened  and  Dr.  Camperdown  stood  before 
him. 

His  hair  was  shaggy  and  unkempt,  his  sharp  gray 
eyes,  hiding  under  the  huge  eyebrows,  were  fixed 
piercingly  on  the  military  figure  which  he  came 
slowly  toward,  the  more  closely  to  exam.ne.  His 
long  arms,  almost;  as  long  as  those  of  the  redoubt- 
able Rob  Roy — who.  Sir  Walter  Scott  tells  us, 
could,  without  stooping,  tie  the  garters  of  his  High- 
land hose  placed  two  inches  below  the  knee — were 
pressed  against  his  sides,  and  his  hands  were 
rammed  down  into  the  pockets  of  an  old  cofifee- 
colored,  office  coat,  on  which  a  solitary  button  lin- 
gered. 

"  Macartney,  is  it  you,"  he  said  doubtfully,  "  or 
your  double?  " 


66 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


if.! 


u 


1 

1 


'*  Myself,"  said  the  officer  with  a  smile  and  ex- 
tending his  hand. 

"Come  in,  come  in,"  said  Dr.  Camperdown, 
passing  into  the  other  room.  "Sit  down,"  drag- 
ging forward  a  leather  chair  on  which  the  dust  lay 
half  an  inch  thick.  "  Afraid  of  the  dust  ?  Finicky 
as  ever.  Wait,  I'll  clean  it  for  you — where's  my 
handkerchief?  Gave  it  to  that  old  woman.  Stop  a 
bit — here's  a  towel.  Now  for  a  talk."  Sprawled 
out  across  two  chairs,  and  biting  and  gnawing  at 
his  moustache  as  if  he  would  uproot  it,  he  gazed 
with  interest  at  his  visitor.  "  What  arc  you  doing 
in  Halifax?     Are  you  in  the  new  regiment?" 

"Yes;  I  arrived  three  days  ago  in  the  'Aca- 
dian.' " 

"Same  hot-headed  Irishman  as  ever?" 

"  No  ;  I  have  cooled  considerably  since  the  old 
subaltern  days.  India  and  fevers  and  accidents 
have  taken  the  life  out  of  me.  How  are  you  get- 
ting on  ?     You  have  a  number  of  charity  patients  I 


see. 


t> 


"  Oh  Lord,  yes  ;  the  leeches ! " 

"Why  don't  you  shake  them  off?  " 

Camperdown  grunted  disapprovingly. 

"You  encourage  them,  I  fancy,"  said  the  officer 
in  his  smooth,  polished  tones.  "They  would  not 
come  if  you  did  not  do  so.  I  hope  you  have 
others,  rich  ones,  to  counterbalance  them." 

"Yes,"  gruffly,  "I  have." 


IN    DR.  CAMPERDOWN  S    OFFICE 


67 


"And  you  bleed  them  to  make  up  for  the  losses 
you  sustain  through  penniless  patients.  Ha,  ha, 
Camperdown,"  and  Captain  Macartney  laughed  the 
pleasant,  mellifluous  laugh  of  a  man  of  culture  and 
fashion. 

Camperdown  looked  benevolently  at  him. 
"  Never  mind  me.  Talk  about  yourself  What 
are  you  making  of  your  life?  You're  getting 
older.     Have  you  married?" 

"  No,  but  I  am  thinking  of  it,"  gravely  and  with 
the  faintest  shade  of  conceit  "My  stepmother 
urges  me  to  it,  and  the  advice  is  agreeable,  for  I 
have  fallen  in  love." 

"  Does  she  reciprocate  ?  "  and  Dr.  Camperdown 
bit  his  moustache  more  savagely  than  ever  in  order 
to  restrain  a  smile. 

"  Not  entirely  ;  but — you  remember  the  time  I 
broke  my  leg,  Camperdown,  five  years  ago?" 

"Yes,  a  compound  fracture." 

"The  time,"  scornfully,  "that  I  was  fool  enough 
to  let  Flora  Colonibel  twist  me  'round  her  little 
finger." 

"  Exactly." 

"  I  was  taken  to  the  Armours'  house  you  remem- 
ber, and  was  fussed  over  and  petted  till  I  loathed 
the  sight  of  her." 

"Yes,"  dryly,  "as  much  as  you  had  previously 
admired  it." 

"  By  Jove,  ytz^''  said  the  other  with  a  note  of 


I- 


If 


!■• 


I 


68 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


II 


'f       ( 


I 

III: 


lazy  contempt  in  his  voice ;  "  and  but  for  that 
broken  leg,  Flora  Colonibel  would  have  been  Flora 
Macartney  now." 

"Very  likely,"  said  Camperdown  grimly;  "but 
what  are  you  harking  back  to  that  old  story  for  ?" 

"It  is  an  odd  thing,"  went  on  Captain  Macartney 
with  some  show  of  warmth,  "that,  tame  cat  as  I 
became  out  at  Pinewood,  and  bored  to  death  as  I 
was  with  confidences  and  family  secrets,  from  the 
old  colonial  days  down,  that  one  thing  only  was 
never  revealed  to  me." 

"What  was  that?" 

"The  fact  that  the  family  possessed  a  kind  of 
ward  or  adopted  daughter,  who  was  being  educated 
abroad." 

"So— they  did  not  tell  you  that?" 

"Not  a  syllable  of  it,''  and  Captain  Macartney 
eyed  keenly  the  uncommunicative  face  before  him. 

"Why  should  they  have  told  you?"  said  Dr. 
Camperdown. 

"  Why — ^why,"  echoed  his  visitor  in  some  con- 
fusion, his  face  growing  furiously  red,  "for  the  very 
good  reason  that  that  is  the  girl  with  whom  I  have 
chosen  to  fall  in  love." 

Camperdown  shrugged  his  huge  shoulders.  "  How 
did  they  know  you'd  fall  in  love  with  the  daughter 
of  their  poor  devil  of  a  bookkeeper  ?  " 

Captain  Macartney  half  rose  from  his  seat. 
"Camperdown,"  he  said   haughtily,   "in  the   old 


i 


IN    DR.  CAMPERDOWN'S   OFFICE 


69 


Dr. 


iHow 
rhter 


seat, 
old 


I 


days  we  were  friends ;  you  and  your  father  before 
you  were  deep  in  the  secrets  of  the  house  of 
Armour.  I  come  to  you  for  information  which  I 
am  not  willing  to  seek  at  the  club  or  in  the  hotels. 
Who  is  Miss  Vivienne  Delavigne?" 

"Sit  down,  sit  down,"  said  Camperdown  surlily 
and  impatiently.  "Scratch  a  Russian  and  you'll 
find  a  Tartar,  and  scratch  an  Irishman  and  you'll 
find  a  fire-eater,  and  every  sensible  man  is  a  fool 
when  he  falls  in  love.   What  do  you  want  to  know?  " 

"Everything." 

"You  love  the  girl — isn't  that  everything?" 

"No." 

"You  didn't  propose  to  her?" 

"  No." 

"Did  you  ask  her  about  her  family  ?  " 

"I  did  not,"  loftily. 

"You  wish  to  know  what  her  station  in  life  is, 
and  whether  she  can  with  propriety  be  taken  into 
the  aristocratic  family  of  the  Macartneys  ?  " 

"Yes,"  shortly  ;  "  if  you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  tell 
me. 

"  Here's  the  matter  in  a  nutshell  then.  Her 
father  was  French,  mother  ditto,  grandfathers  and 
grandmothers  the  same — all  poorest  of  the  poor, 
and  tillers  of  the  soil.  Her  father  got  out  of  the 
peasant  ring,  became  confidential  man  for  Colonel 
Armour,  and  when  he  reached  years  of  discretion, 
which  was  before  I  did,  I  believe  that  he  embezzled 


70 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


i^^ 


J  * 


•I. 


■■i-' 


1 


i- 


largely,  burnt  the  Armours'  warehouse,  and  not 
being  arrested,  decamped — the  whole  thing  to  the 
tune  of  some  thousands  of  dollars.  That  is  her 
father's  record." 

Captain  Macartney  was  visibly  disturbed.  "  How 
long  ago  did  this  take  place  ?  " 

"Twenty  years." 

"Is  it  well  known — much  talked  of?" 

"No,  you  know  how  things  are  dropped  in  a 
town.  The  story's  known,  but  no  one  speaks  of  it. 
Now  the  girl  has  come  back,  I  suppose  Dame 
Rumor  will  set  it  flying  again." 

Captain  Macartney  relapsed  into  a  chagrined 
silence.  Camperdown  sucking  in  both  his  cheeks 
till  he  was  a  marvel  of  ugliness,  watched  him 
sharply,  and  with  wicked  enjoyment.  "  You'll  have 
to  give  her  up.  Macartney." 

"  By  Jove,  I  will,"  said  the  officer  angrily.  "My 
uncle  would  cut  me  off  with  a  ha'penny." 

"  Bah !"  said  his  companion  contemptuously.  "I 
would  not  give  her  up  for  all  the  uncles  in  Chris- 
tendom." 

"You  know  nothing  about  the  duty  of  renuncia- 
tion," said  the  other  sarcastically.  •*  I've  not  drunk 
a  glass  of  wine  for  a  twelve-month." 

"What's  wrong?"  said  the  physician  with  pro- 
fessional curiosity. 

" Indigestion,"  shortly.  Then  slowly,  "Suppose 
I  married  the  girl — she  could  not  live  on  air." 


IN    DR.  CAMPERDOWN  S   OFFICE 


71 


My 


pro- 
tpose 


••Your  pay." 

••  Is  not  enough  for  myself." 

"You  hoped  to  find  her  a  rich  girl,"  said  Dr. 
Camperdovvn  sharply. 

••  I  will  not  deny  that  I  had  some  such  expecta- 
tion," said  the  other  raising  his  head,  and  looking 
at  him  coolly,  but  with  honest  eyes.  "Her  dress 
and  appearance — her  whole  ejitourage  is  that  of  a 
person  occupying  a  higher  station  in  life  than  she 
does." 

•'Fiddle-de-dee,  what  does  it  matter?  She's  a 
lady.     What  do  you  care  about  her  ancestors  ?" 

"We  don't  look  upon  things  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Atlantic  as  you  do  here,"  said  Captain  Macart- 
ney half  regretfully.  "And  it  is  not  that  alone. 
It  is  the  disgrace  connected  with  her  name  that 
makes  the  thing  impossible." 

'•  Bosh — give  her  an  honest  name.  You're  not 
half  a  man,  Macartney." 

The  officer  sprang  from  his  seat.  His  Irish  blood 
was  "up."  Camperdown  chuckled  wickedly  to 
himself  as  he  watched  him  pacing  up  and  down  the 
narrow  apartment,  holding  up  his  sword  with  one 
hand  and  clasping  the  other  firmly  behind  his  back. 
From  time  to  time  he  threw  a  wrathful  glance  in 
the  surgeon's  direction  and  after  he  had  succeeded 
in  controlling  himself,  he  said  doggedly  :  "  I  shall 
not  marry  her,  but  I  will  do  what  I  can  for  her ; 
she  ought  to  be  got  out  of  that  house." 


...mimk 


I 


iJ!j 


v^% 


72 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"Why?"  said  his  friend  inanely. 

"Beg  pardon,  Camperdown,  but  your  questions 
infuriate  me,"  said  his  companion  in  a  low  voice. 
'*You  know  that  is  no  place  for  a  young,  innocent 
girl  to  be  happy.  Begin  with  the  head  of  the 
house.  Colonel  Armour.  I'll  sketch  his  career  for 
you  in  six  words ;  young  devil,  middle-aged  devil, 
old  devil.  Flora  Colonibel  is  a  painted  peacock. 
Stanton  an  iceberg.  Judy  an  elf,  imp,  tigress,  any- 
thing you  will.  Valentine  a  brainless  fop.  If  you're 
a  man,  you'll  help  me  get  her  out  of  it." 

"  You  can't  do  anything  now,"  said  Dr.  Camper- 
down  pointedly. 

"Yes  I  can — I'm  her  friend." 

"You're  her  lover,  as  long  as  you  dangle  about 
her." 

"Stuff  and  nonsense,"  said  Captain  Macartney 
peevishly  and  resuming  his  seat.  "She  isn't  in 
love  with  me." 

Dr.  Camperdown  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter. 
"She  doesn't  smile  upon  you  ;  then  why  all  this 
agony  ?  " 

"  It's  easily  seen  that  you've  not  proposed  to 
many  women,"  said  Captain  Macartney  coolly. 
"They  never  say  yes,  at  first." 

The  shaft  went  home.  His  ugly  vis-a-vis 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  made  no  reply. 

"  We  had  a  saying  about  Flora  Colonibel  in  the 
past,"  said  Captain  Macartney  earnestly,  "that  she 


m 


IN    DR.  CAMPERDOWN  S   OFFICE 


73 


is 


Us 

e 
ie 


feared  neither  saint,  angel,  nor  demon,  but  that  she 
stood  in  mortal  dread  of  Brian  Camperdown.  She 
will  persecute  that  girl  to  a  dead  certainty.  Can't 
you  hold  her  in  check  ?  My  stepmother  will  stand 
by  you.  She  would  even  take  her  for  a  trip  some- 
where, or  have  her  visit  her." 

"  I'll  look  after  her,"  briefly.  "  By  the  way,  where 
did  you  meet  her  ?  " 

"  In  Paris,  with  the  French  lady  who  has  been 
traveling  with  her  since  she  left  school,  and  who 
asked  my  stepmother  to  take  charge  of  her  on  the 
journey  here." 

"  Her  arrival  was  a  surprise,"  said  Dr.  Cam- 
perdown. "Armour  didn't  tell  me  that  she  was 
coming." 

Captain  Macartney  surveyed  him  with  some  jeal- 
ousy. "So  you  too  have  an  eye  to  her  move- 
ments?" 

"Yes,"  said  Camperdown  impishly.  "I  don't 
care  for  her  antecedents." 

"  Oh,  indeed  ;  I  am  glad  that  you  do  not,"  said 
the  officer,  drawing  on  his  gloves  with  a  smile. 
"  Of  course  you  do  not.  You  have  no  right  to  do 
so.     How  is  that  lady  with  the  charming  name  ?  " 

"She  is  well." 

"  Is  she  still  in  her  old  quarters  ?  " 

"Yes." 

'*I  must  do  myself  the  pleasure  of  calling  on 
her.     She  is  as  remarkable  as  ever  I  suppose  ?  " 


i 


I 


74 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  More  so." 

"  I  can  well  believe  it  Now  I  must  leave  you. 
1  am  due  at  the  South  Barracks  at  twelve,"  and  he 
rose  to  go. 

"  Stop,  Macartney  ;  there  are  mitigating  circum- 
stances connected  with  this  affair.  I  told  you  that 
Miss  Delavigne's  immediate  ancestry  was  poor.  It 
is  also  noble  on  her  mother's  side — formerly  rich. 
You  have  heard  of  the  French  family  the  Lacy 
d'Entrevilles?" 

•*  I  have." 

"  Ever  hear  that  they  sprang  from  the  stock  of  a 
prince  royal  of  France  ?  " 

"No,  I  have  not." 

'•  They  say  they  did  ;  one  of  them,  a  Marquis 
Rene  Theodore  something  or  other  was  a  colonel 
in  Louis  the  Fourteenth's  body-guards — came  out 
to  Quebec  in  command  of  a  regiment  there,  then 
to  Acadie  and  founded  this  branch  of  the  family ; 
it  is  too  long  a  story  to  tell.  I  dare  say  mademoi- 
selle is  as  proud  as  the  rest  of  them." 

"She  is,"  said  his  hearer  with  a  short  laugh. 

"  Born  aristocrats — and  years  of  noses  to  the 
grindstone  can't  take  it  out  of  them,  and  the  Dela- 
vignes,  though  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of 
water,  as  compared  with  the  aristocratic  Lacy 
d'Entrevilles,  were  all  high  strung  and  full  of  hon- 
esty. Seriously,  Macartney,  I  think  her  father  was 
a  monomaniac.      A  quiet  man  immersed   in   his 


IN    DR.  CAMPERDOWN's   Oi'FlCE 


7$ 


business  wouldn't  start  out  all  at  once  on  a  career 
of  dishonesty  after  an  unblemished  record." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  this,"  said  Captain  Macart- 
ney, '*  and  I  am  exceedingly  obliged  to  you.  Some 
other  time  I  shall  ask  you  to  favor  me  with  the 
whole  story,"  and  he  went  thoughtfully  away. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


AN    INTERVIEW    IN    THE    LIBRARY 


i 


AT  ten  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  the  day  that 
Captain  Macartney  made  his  call  on  Dr. 
Camperdovvn  Judy  was  restlessly  hitching  herself 
up  and  down  the  big  front  hall  at  Pinewood. 

"  Oh,  that  crutch  ! "  ejaculated  Mrs.  Colonibel, 
who  was  playing  cards  with  Valentine  in  the  draw- 
ing room  ;  "how  I  hate  to  hear  it." 

"  Don't  you  like  to  hear  your  offspring  taking  a 
little  exercise  ?  "  he  asked  tantalizingly. 

"Not  when  she's  waiting  for  that  detestable 
French  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Colonibel.  "  I  do  wish 
Stanton  would  send  her  away." 

"  Everything  comes  to  her  who  waits,"  said  Val- 
entine. "The  trouble  is  with  you  women  that  you 
won't  wait     Play,  cousin." 

"Here  she  is,"  exclaimed  Judy,  and  she  flung 
open  the  door  with  a  joyful,  "Welcome  home." 

Vivienne  was  just  getting  out  of  a  sleigh.  "Ah, 
Judy,  how  kind  of  you  to  wait  for  me,''  she  said. 
"  Did  you  get  my  note  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  nobody  asked  where  you  were  ex- 
cept mamma." 
76 


AN    INTERVIEW    IN    THE    LIBRARY 


77 


Vivienne's  face  clouded  slightly,  then  it  bright- 
ened again.      "Where  is  Mr.  Armour?" 

"  In  the  library ;  he  always  spends  his  evenings 
there." 

"  I  wish  to  speak  to  him.  Do  you  think  I  could 
go  in." 

"Yes  ;  what  do  you  want  to  say?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  afterward,"  and  with  a  smile 
Vivienne  let  her  cloak  slip  from  her  shoulders  and 
knocked  at  a  near  door. 

Judy  with  her  head  on  one  side  like  a  little  cat 
listened  to  the  brief  "Come  in,"  then  as  Vivienne 
disappeared  from  view  she  spun  round  and  round 
the  hall  in  a  kind  of  dance. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ? "  asked  her 
mother,  coming  from  the  drawing  room. 

Judy  stopped.     "  I  have  a  pain  in  my  mind." 

"  What  kind  of  a  pain,  Judy  ?  "  asked  Valentine, 
looking  over  Mrs.  Colonibel's  shoulder. 

"A  joyful  pain." 

"Miss  Delavigne  has  gone  upstairs,  has  she?" 
asivifi  Mrs.  Colon ibel. 

"Yes,  she  came  in,"  said  Judy  evasively. 
"Why  don't  you   go  to   bed?"  continued    her 
mother. 

"  Because  I  choose  to  stay  here  and  read,"  and 
Judy  seizing  a  book  flung  herself  on  a  divan. 

"Well,  I  afi  going,"  said  Mrs.  Colonibel  ;  "good- 
night," and  she  turned  toward  the  staircase 


Is  ii 


Mil       ( 


Mill 


!'il 


78 


THE    HOUSE    OF    ARMOUR 


Valentine  tossed  a  cap  on  his  black  head  and 
opening  a  door  leading  to  a  veranda  ran  swiftly 
down  a  snowy  path  to  the  cottage. 

When  Vivicnnc  entered  the  library  Mr.  Armour 
looked  up  in  some  surprise  and  with  a  faint  trace 
of  annoyance. 

**  I  hope  I  am  not  disturbing  you,"  she  said  po- 
litely. 

"Not  at  all,"  and  he  turned  his  back  on  the  table 
bestrewn  with  papers  and  invited  her  by  a  wave  of 
the  hand  to  sit  dowo. 

He  stood  himself  leaning  one  elbow  on  the 
mantel,  and  looked  curiously  down  at  her  as  she  sat 
glancing  about  at  the  book-cases  and  the  rose  and 
ashen  hangings  of  his  handsome  room. 

What  a  strangely  self-possessed  girl  she  was. 
Could  he  think  of  another  who  would  come  boldly 
into  his  presence  and  demand  an  interview  with  his 
own  dignified  self?  No,  he  could  not.  Well,  she 
was  a  foreigner.  How  he  hated  the  type ;  the 
smooth  black  bands  of  hair,  the  level  heavy  eye- 
brows, the  burning  eyes.  What  havoc  a  face  like 
this  had  already  wrought  in  his  family,  and  he 
shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hand  and  averted  them 
from  her  as  she  ejaculated  : 

"I  beg  your  pardon  for  keeping  you.  I  will  say 
what  I  wish  very  shortly.  I  have  just  come  from 
dining  with  the  Macartneys." 

"At  their  hotel?" 


1 


AN    INTERVIEW    IN    THE    LIDRARY 


79 


"Yes." 

"I  wish  that  you  had  consulted  me,"  he  said  in 
his  most  chilling  manner.  "  Hotels  are  public 
places  for  young  girls." 

"  Not  when  they  are  under  proper  chaperonage," 
she  said  gently;  "and  really  I  did  not  suppose  that 
you  took  any  interest  in  my  movements." 

He  glanced  suspiciously  at  her,  but  saw  that  there 
was  no  hint  of  fault-finding  in  her  manner. 

"  I  have  come  in  this  evening  to  tell  you  some- 
thing that  I  know  will  please  you,"  she  said. 

Something  to  please  him — he  wondered  in  a  dull 
way  what  it  was. 

"Captain  Macartney  wishes  to  marry  me,"  she 
said. 

He  stared  incredulously  at  her.  "  Captain 
Macartney  ! " 

"Yes  ;  he  asked  me  this  evening." 

He  pondered  over  the  news  for  some  instants  in 
silence,  then  he  said,  "Why  do  you  say  that  this 
will  please  me  ?  " 

Viviennc  looked  steadily  at  him.  "  Mr.  Armour, 
you  cannot  conceal  the  fact  from  me  that  I  am  a 
great  burden  to  you," 

"A  great  burden,"  he  repeated  frigidly.  "  Surely 
you  forget  yourself.   Miss  Delavigne." 

"No,  no,"  she  replied  with  animation.  "  Do  not 
be  vexed  with  me,  Mr.  Armour ;  I  am  just  begin- 
ning to  understand  things.     You  know  that  I  have 


^o 


THE    HOUSE    OF    ARMOUR 


''I       f 
'  I       ! 


no  father  and  mother.  When  I  was  a  Httle  girl 
away  across  the  sea,  and  the  other  children  went 
home  for  their  holidays,  I  used  to  cry  to  think  that 
I  had  no  home.  When  I  got  older  I  found  out 
from  your  letters  that  you  did  not  wish  me  to  come. 
I  was  surprised  that  you  at  last  sent  for  me,  but 
yet  delighted,  for  I  thought,  even  if  the  Armours  do 
not  care  for  me  I  shall  be  in  my  native  land,  I 
shall  never  leave  it ;  yet,  yet " 

She  paused  for  an  instant  and  seemed  to  be 
struggling  with  some  emotion.  Mr.  Armour  raised 
his  heavy  eyelids  just  long  enough  to  glance  at 
her,  then  dropped  them  again.  His  eyes  carried 
the  picture  to  the  reddish-brown  tiles  of  the  hearth 
— the  pretty  graceful  figure  of  the  half  girl,  half 
woman,  before  him,  her  little  foreign  gestures,  the 
alluring  softness  of  her  dark  eyes.  Yet  the  picture 
possessed  no  attraction  for  him.  It  only  appealed 
slightly  to  his  half-deadened  sensibilities.  He  was 
doing  wrong  to  dislike  her  so  intensely.  He  must 
keep  his  feelings  under  better  control. 

"Well,"  he  said  less  coldly,  "you  were  going  to 
say  something  else." 

"  I  was  going  to  say,"  remarked  Vivienne,  a  bright 
impatient  color  coming  and  going  in  her  cheeks, 
"that  one  cannot  live  on  patriotism.  I  thought 
that  I  would  not  miss  my  friends — the  people  who 
have  been  good  to  me.  I  find  that  I  do.  In  this 
house  I  feel  that  I  am  an  intruder " 


I 


AN    INTERVIEW    IN    THE    LIBRARY 


8i 


to 


"And  the  Macartneys  adore  you,"  he  said,  a 
steely  gleam  of  amusement  coming  into  his  eyes, 
"and  consequently  you  wish  to  be  with  them." 

"That  is  a  slight  exaggeration,"  said  Vivienne 
composedly  ;  "  yet  we  will  let  it  pass.  With  your 
permission  I  will  marry  Captain  Macartney." 

"Suppose  I  withhold  my  permission." 

Vivienne  glanced  keenly  at  him.  Was  this  man 
of  marble  capable  of  a  jest?  Yes,  he  was.  "If 
you  do,"  she  said  coolly,  "  I  will  run  away."  Then 
she  laughed  with  the  ease  and  gaycty  of  girlhood 
and  Mr.  Armour  watching  her  smiled  gravely. 

"  I  suppose  the  Macartneys  have  been  much 
touched  by  your  stories  of  our  cruel  treatment  of 
you,"  he  said  sarcastically. 

Vivienne  tapped  her  foot  impatiently  on  the  floor. 
Did  he  really  think  that  she  was  a  tell-tale? 

"Ah  yes,"  she  said  nonchalantly;  "I  have  told 
them  that  you  detest  me  and  allow  me  only  bread 
and  water,  that  I  sleep  in  a  garret,  and  your  father 
and  Mrs.  Colonibel  run  away  whenever  they  sec 
me,  small  Judy  being  my  only  friend  in  the  house." 

Mr.  Armour  smiled  more  broadly.  How  quick 
she  was  to  follow  his  lead  !  "  Does  my  father  really 
avoid  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

There  was  some  complacency  in  his  tone  and 
Vivienne  holding  her  head  a  trifle  higher  responded  : 
"  I  make  no  complaint  of  members  of  your  family 
to  you  or  to  any  other  person,  Mr.  Armour." 

F 


ri 


liH 

ill  '• 


'I  f 


82 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


He  frowned  irritably  and  with  one  of  the  per- 
emptory hand  gestures  that  Vivienne  so  much  dis- 
liked he  went  on  :  "Why  did  not  Macartney  speak 
to  me  himself  about  this  affair?  " 

"  He  will  do  so  to-morrow.  I  wished  to  see  you 
first." 

"Why?" 

"Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  excuse  me  from 
telling  you  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Armour  unexpectedly;  "I  wish 
to  know." 

Vivienne  shook  her  head  in  an  accession  of 
girlish  independence  that  was  highly  distasteful  to 
him. 

"  I  cannot  endure  a  mystery,"  he  said  sternly. 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Vivienne  demurely ;  "  but  really, 
Mr.  Armour,  I  do  not  wish  to  tell  you." 

"Those  Irish  people  are  spoiling  her,"  he  re- 
flected. Vivienne  was  watching  him  and  after  a 
time  she  said  relentingly  : 

"  However,  it  is  a  slight  thing — ^you  may  think 
it  worse  than  it  is  if  I  do  not  tell  you.  I " — proudly 
— "did  not  wish  Captain  Macartney  to  be  the  first 
to  tell  you  lest,  lest " 

"Lest  what?" 

"  Lest  you  should  seem  too  glad  to  get  rid  of 
me,"  she  concluded. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  asked  haughtily. 

Vivienne  pushed  back  her  chair  and  stepped  a 


V: 


AN    INTERVIEW    IN    THE    LIBRARY 


83 


id  of 


little  farther  away  from  him.  "You  may  think 
that  because  I  am  young,  Mr.  Armour,  I  have  no 
pride ;  I  have.  I  bitterly,  bitterly  resent  your 
treatment  of  me.  I  have  tried  to  please  you  ; 
never  a  word  of  praise  have  you  given  me  all  these 
years.  I  come  back  to  you  to  be  treated  like  an 
outcast.  My  father  was  a  gentleman,  if  he  was 
poor,  and  of  a  family  superior  to  that  of  the  Ar- 
mours. You  will  be  glad,  glad,  glad  to  throw  me 
off " 

She  stopped  to  dash  away  an  angry  tear  from 
her  cheek  while  Mr.  Armour  surveyed  her  in  the 
utmost  astonishment. 

"  You  think  because  I  am  a  girl  I  do  not  care," 
she  went  on,  her  fine  small  nostrils  dilating  with 
anger.      "Girls  care  as  well  as  men." 

"How  old  are  you?"  ejaculated  Mr.  Armour 
stupidly. 

"  You  do  not  even  know  my  age,"  she  retorted, 
"you — my  guardian,"  and  with  a  glance  of  sublime 
displeasure  she  tried  to  put  her  hand  on  the  door 
handle. 

"Stop  a  moment,"  said  Mr.  Armour  confusedly. 

"  I  have  talked  long  enough  to  you,"  she  re- 
sponded. "  You  have  made  me  lose  my  temper  ; 
a  thing  I  seldom  do,"  and  with  this  parting  shaft 
she  left  the  room. 

Mr.  Armour  stood  holding  the  door  open  for 
some  time  after  she  left  him.     Then  he  stooped 


84 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


•if 

;  I  • 


■II 


H 


down  and  picked  a  crumpled  handkerchief  from  the 
floor. 

"  What  irrepressibiHty  ! "  he  muttered  ;  "  a  most 
irritating  girl.  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  her  taken 
ofif  my  hands,  and  she  is  angry  about  it.  Well,  it 
cannot  be  helped,"  and  he  seated  himself  in  a  quiet, 
dull  fashion  by  the  fire.  Worry,  annoyance,  dread, 
and  unutterable  weariness  oppressed  him,  yel 
through  it  all  his  face  preserved  its  expression  of 
icy  calm.  A  stranger  looking  into  the  room  would 
have  said  :  "A  quiet,  handsome  man  meditating  in 
the  solitude  of  his  library;"  not  by  any  means,  a 
poor,  weary  pilgrim  to  whom  life  was  indeed  no 
joyous  thing  but  a  grievous,  irksome  burden  that 
he  longed  to,  yet  dared  not,  lay  down. 

Vivienne  went  slowly  upstairs  resting  one  hand 
on  the  railing  as  she  did  so. 

"Well,  my  dear,"  said  Judy,  meeting  her  half- 
way, "what  makes  your  face  so  red?  Have  you 
had  an  exhibition  of  Grand-Turkism  ?  " 

"Judy,"  said  Vivienne,  stopping  short,  "I  knew 
before  I  went  to  that  room  to-night  that  Mr.  Ar- 
mour likes  to  have  his  own  way." 

"You  are  a  match  for  him,"  said  Judy  dryly; 
"now  tell  me  what  you  wanted  to  say  to  him." 

"  I  wished  to  announce  my  engagement  to  Cap- 
tain Macartney." 

"Oh,  you  bad,  bad  girl,"  exclaimed  Judy  ;  "oh, 
you  bad  girl !" 


AN    INTERVIEW    IN    THE    LIBRARY 


85 


1  the 

most 
:aken 
ell.  it 
[juiet, 
Ircad. 
,    yet 
on  of 
would 
ing  in 
ans,  a 
cd  no 
[1  that 

hand 

half- 
re  you 

knew 
[r.  Ar- 


n. 


dryly; 
n." 
o  Cap- 

oh, 


"A  bad  girl!"  exclaimed  Vivienne. 

"Come  along,"  said  Judy,  dragging  her  upstairs. 
"  Come  to  our  room.  Oh,  I  am  so  disappointed  !  I 
had  other  plans  for  you." 

"Indeed — what  were  they?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  must  forget  them,  I  suppose. 
But  don't  be  too  hard  on  Stanton,  Vivienne." 

••What  do  you  mean  by  being  too  hard?  You 
have  never  heard  me  say  a  word  against  him." 

••  No,  but  you  look  things  with  those  big  eyes 
of  yours.  He  has  a  detestable  time  with  Uncle 
Colonel  and  Val." 

"In  what  way?"  asked  Vivienne  feebly. 

•'  Because  they  are  demons  ;  regular  dissipated 
demons,  and  he  is  their  keeper.  They  lead  him  a 
life ;  that's  why  he's  so  solemn.  What  did  he  say 
about  your  engagement?  " 

••  I  fancy  that  it  meets  with  his  approbation." 

•Approbation — fiddlesticks  !  Do  you  love  your 
fiance^  Vivienne  ?  " 

••  No,  certainly  not.  He  is  a  gentleman  ;  I  like 
him,  and  he  is  very  good  to  his  stepmother." 

"  What  an  excellent  reason  for  marrying  him," 
said  Judy  sarcastically ;  ••he  is  good  to  his  step- 
mother." 

••Therefore  he  will  be  good  to  me." 

••Well,  you're  about  half  right.  Let  us  go  to 
bed.  I  don't  feel  like  discussing  this  engagement 
of  yours." 


h      ' 


hn     I 


^ 


i 

I    || 

J:  '*  i 


i  i 


86 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


Vivienne  looked  v/istfuUy  after  the  little  elfish 
figure  limping  away  from  her.  "Judy,"  she  said, 
"Judy." 

The  girl  stopped. 

"  Don't  you  think  it  is  nauseating  to  hear  some 
girls  gushing  about  their  dear  darling  lovers?" 

"Yes,  perfectly  so." 

"So  many  of  those  terrible  enthusiastic  mar- 
riages turn  out  badly." 

"A  great  many ;  I  must  get  Stargarde  to  talk  to 
you  about  the  marriage  question." 

"Who  is  Stargarde?"  asked  Vivienne  curiously. 

"Stargarde  is  Stargarde,"  said  Judy  enigmati- 
cally ;  "wait  till  you  see  her.     Good-night." 


If   1 


CHAPTER  IX 


THE   PAVILION 


DR.  CAMPERDOWN  lived  in  a  large,  bare 
stone  house  a  few  blocks  distant  from  his 
office.  Late  one  afternoon  he  stood  at  one  of  the 
back  windows  from  which  he  commanded  a  magnifi- 
cent view  of  the  harbor. 

"Bah  !  it's  going  to  be  cold  to-night,"  he  said, 
suddenly  banging  down  the  window ;  "  the  snow 
clouds  have  blown  away." 

He  looked  about  his  lonely  room,  where  the  fur- 
niture was  ugly  and  scanty  and  the  general  aspect 
of  things  cheerless.  "  Desolate,  eh,"  he  muttered 
thoughtfully  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  expiring  embers 
of  the  fire.  "  I'll  go  and  see  Stargarde.  How  long 
since  I've  seen  the ?  "  and  some  endearing  epi- 
thet lost  itself  between  his  lips  and  his  moustache. 

"  It  is  twelve  days — nearly  a  fortnight,"  he  went 
on  after  a  pause.  "Time  for  another  spree,"  and 
with  grim  cheerfulness  he  lighted  the  gas  and  seiz- 
ing a  brush  and  comb  began  briskly  to  smooth  his 
towzled  head. 

After  his  refractory  locks  were  in  order  he  went 
to  his  wardrobe  where  with  many  head  shakings  he 

87 


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88 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


mm ".    1 


turned  over  his  whole  stock  of  coats  before  he  could 
find  one  to  suit  him." 

"I  guess  this  will  do,"  he  said  at  Icist,  shaking  out 
one  which  was  minus  one  button  only.  "  She'll  be 
sure  to  spy  that  vacant  spot,"  he  went  on  dubi- 
ously. "  Where's  that  old  beldame  to  sew  it  on  ? 
Hannah  !  fairy,  sylph,  beauty,  come  up  here  ! " 

There  was  no  sound  from  the  rooms  below. 
Wiih  a  quick  ejaculation  he  threw  the  coat  over 
his  arm  and  went  down  the  staircase  two  steps  at  a 
time.  Opening  the  doors  of  a  dull  dining  room 
and  a  still  more  dull  and  comfortless  drawing  room 
he  looked  in  to  find  them  tenantless. 

"  Must  be  in  her  lowest  den,"  he  said,  vaulting 
like  a  boy  down  a  narrower  flight  of  stairs  leading 
to  a  kitchen.  There  indeed  he  found  an  old  woman 
groveling  over  a  fire. 

"  Hannah,"  he  shouted,  holding  his  coat  toward 
her.  "There's  a  button  gone,  will  you  sew  on 
another?  " 

"Eh,  what's  that  ye  said,  Mr.  Brian?"  queried 
the  old  woman.  "A  button  ?  Yes  indeed,  ye  shall 
have  it ;  just  ye  wait  till  I  get  my  workbasket,"  and 
she  started  to  leave  the  kitchen,  but  he  restrained 
her  with  an  impatient,  "Where  is  it?" 

"  In  the  right  top-hand  corner  of  my  second 
drawer,  me  boy,  if  ye' 11  be  so  kind.  Hannah's  limbs 
is  gettin'  old." 

He  shook  off  the  affectionate  hand  she  laid  on 


■  1 


■i 


i 


i 


THE   PAVILION 


89 


I  : 


his  shoulder  and  leaped  upstairs  again.  When  he 
returned  with  her  basket  the  old  woman  slowly 
lifted  the  cover.  "  Did  ye  no  bring  the  thimble  ?  " 
she  asked  in  surprise. 

"  No — confound  the  thimble  !  Why  don't  you 
keep  it  in  your  basket  ?  " 

•'  Because  I  always  keeps  it  in  the  left-hand  cor- 
ner of  the  window,"  she  answered  mildly,  *'  behind 

the  picture  of  your  sainted  father "  but  Dr. 

Camperdown  was  gone,  springing  up  the  steps  again 
in  a  state  of  desperate  hurry. 

"If  you  don't  sew  that  button  on  in  five  min- 
utes," he  vociferated  in  her  ear  when  he  came 
back,  "  I'll  turn  you  out  of  the  house  to-mor- 
row." 

"Sure,  Mr.  Brian,  ye  know  ye'd  do  no  such 
thing,"  said  the  old  woman  throwing  him  a  remon- 
strating glance.      "Ye'd  go  yourself  first." 

He  laughed  shortly,  then  exclaimed  :  "  Oh,  sew 
it  on — sew  it  on  and  don't  talk.  I'll  give  you  a 
dollar  if  you'll  have  it  on  in  two  minutes." 

At  this  the  old  woman's  fingers  flew,  and  in  a 
short  time  the  button  was  in  place,  the  coat  on  Dr. 
Camperdown's  back,  and  with  a  hasty  "I'll  not  be 
back  to  dinner,"  he  had  hurried  out  of  the  kitchen 
to  the  floor  above,  where  he  rapidly  donned  a  cap 
and  coat  and  went  out  into  the  street. 

The  air  was  keen  and  frosty  and  he  drew  great 
breaths  of  it  into  his  capacious  lungs. 


rs" 


I  i 


I 


^^1 

m 


11 


90 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  I  could  walk  twenty  miles,"  he  muttered  as  he 
swung  himself  along  by  lighted  shops  and  houses. 

As  he  went  on  the  streets  became  more  and 
more  shabby.  The  gutters  about  him  were  dirty 
and  many  of  the  houses  were  mere  wooden  shells 
and  a  most  insufficient  protection  against  the  win- 
ter winds. 

Midway  on  the  dirtiest  and  least  respectable  of 
the  streets  he  stopped  in  front  of  a  long,  clean  brick 
building  erected  by  the  charitable  people  of  the 
town  for  the  better  housing  of  the  poor.  To  the 
street  it  presented  high  walls  pierced  by  windows 
of  good  size.  Inside  was  a  large  yard  overlooked 
by  a  double  row  of  verandas  that  ran  along  the 
building.  Passing  through  an  archway  he  entered 
this  yard,  looked  across  it  at  the  washhouses,  store- 
rooms, and  a  little  eating  house  with  gayly  flaunting 
lights,  then  turning  to  his  left  stepped  on  a  veranda 
and  knocked  lightly  at  a  door. 

"Come  in,"  said  a  voice  like  a  bell,  and  softly 
turning  the  handle  he  entered  a  little  plainly  fur- 
nished room  where  a  bright  fire  blazed  merrily. 

There  was  one  elegant  bit  of  furniture  in  the 
room,  an  elaborately  carved  davenport,  where  sat 
a  tall,  magnificently  proportioned  woman  with  a 
white,  firm,  smooth  skin  like  a  baby's,  a  pair  of  deep 
blue  eyes,  and  a  crown  of  pale  golden  hair  that 
lay  in  coils  on  the  top  of  her  head  and  waved  down 
in  little  ringlets  and  circlets  over  her  neck. 


! 

i 


THE   PAVILION 


91 


the 

sat 

h  a 


Ah,  that  neck — he  would  give  worlds  to  touch 
it ;  and  Brian  Camperdown  stood  trembling  like  a 
boy  as  he  looked  at  it.  The  woman  had  her  back 
to  him  and  was  writing  busily.  Presently  the  pen 
stopped  running  over  the  paper  and  she  thought- 
fully leaned  her  head  on  a  shapely  white  hand. 

"It  is  cold,"  she  said  suddenly.  "Close  the 
door,  my  friend — ah,  Brian,  is  it  you?"  turning 
around  and  giving  him  a  hand  over  the  back  of  her 
chair.  "  I  thought  it  was  one  of  the  people.  Wait 
an  instant,  won't  you,  till  I  finish  my  letter?  It  is 
so  important,"  and  with  an  angelic  smile  and  a 
womanly  dimple  she  turned  back  to  her  desk. 

"I'm  in  no  hurry,"  he  said  composedly,  taking 
off  his  coat  and  hanging  it  behind  the  door  on  a 
hook  with  whose  location  he  seemed  to  be  quite 
well  acquainted.  Then  he  arranged  his  huge  limbs 
in  an  arm-chair  and  stared  at  her. 

Though  the  time  was  December  she  had  on  a 
cotton  gown  that  had  large  loose  sleeves  fitting 
tightly  around  her  wrists.  About  her  neck  and  over 
her  bresist  it  was  laid  in  folds  that  outlined  her  beau- 
tiful form.  At  her  waist  it  was  drawn  in  by  a  rib- 
bon, and  hung  from  that  downward  in  a  graceful 
fullness  utterly  at  variance  with  the  sheath-like  fit 
of  the  prevailing  style  of  dress.  Though  the  gown 
was  cotton  there  was  a  bit  of  fine  lace  in  the  necl 

"  Some  one  must  have  given  it  to  her,"  muttered 
Dr.  Camperdown,  whose  eagle  eye  soon  espied  its 


i> ! 


n 


il.  i  1^ 


!  fel 


It 


'      l«' 


I 


92 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


quality.  "  She  would  never  buy  it.  Flora  proba- 
bly, if" — with  a  sneer — "she  could  make  up  her 
mind  to  part  with  it"  Then  he  said  aloud  and 
very  humbly,  " Can't  you  talk  to  me  yet?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  Brian,"  and  the  woman  laughed  in  her 
clear,  bell-like  tones.  "I  have  finished,"  and  she 
stood  up  to  put  her  letter  on  the  mantelpiece. 

When  she  was  standing  one  saw  what  a  superb 
creature  she  was.  A  goddess  come  down  from  her 
pedestal  would  not  be  more  unlike  the  average 
woman  in  appearance  than  she.  Her  draperies  be- 
ing almost  as  loose  and  unconfined  as  those  of  the 
ancient  Greek  and  Roman  women  she  was  untram- 
meled,  and  being  untrammeled  she  was  graceful 
in  spite  of  her  great  height  and  comely  proportions. 
She  was  like  a  big,  beautiful  child  with  her  innocent, 
charming  manners  and  blue  unworldly  eyes,  and  yet 
there  was  something  about  her  that  showed  she 
had  lived  and  suffered.  She  was  a  woman  and  into 
her  life  had  been  crowded  the  experiences  of  the 
lives  of  a  dozen  ordinary  women. 

*'  It  is  some  time  since  I  have  seen  you,  Brian," 
she  said  in  a  fresh,  joyous  voice. 

"  Yes,"  he  articulated,  "  I  have  been  trying  to 
keep  away.  Had  to  come  now.  I  want  to  talk  to 
you  about  the  Delavigne  child.  She  has  arrived. 
Stanton  has  brought  her  here." 

"  Has  he  ?  "  and  Stargarde  clasped  her  hands. 
"  When  did  she  come  ?  " 


I 


THE   PAVILION 


93 


M 

:o 
:o 


"A  few  days  ago." 

"  Have  you  been  out  to  see  her  ?  " 

"  No,  I  have  been  busy." 

"  And  I  have  been  away ;  but  I  will  go  as  soon 
as  I  can,"  and  the  woman  absently  let  her  eyes 
meet  those  of  her  guest  till  he  was  obliged  to  shut 
his  own  to  get  rid  of  their  dazzle  and  glitter. 

Unfortunately  for  him  she  noticed  what  he 
was  doing.  "  Brian  Camperdown,"  she  exclaimed, 
"  open  your  eyes.  I  won't  talk  to  you  if  you  sit 
there  half  asleep,"  and  she  burst  into  a  merry  peal 
of  laughter  that  a  baby  might  have  envied. 

"I'm  not  sleepy,"  he  said  hastily;  "I  was  think- 
ing," and  he  surveyed  her  in  unwinking  attention. 

"Well,  do  not  think  ;  listen  to  me.  That  little 
French  girl  is  so  often  in  my  thoughts,  and  lately  in 
particular  I  have  not  been  able  to  get  her  out  of 
my  head." 

"  I  daresay,"  he  growled.  "  There  are  more 
people  than  the  Delavigne  child  in  your  head — a 
whole  colony  of  them.  I  wonder  they  don't  worry 
you  to  death." 

"  I  hope  she  will  let  me  be  kind  to  her,"  said 
Stargarde  earnestly. 

"You  needn't  worry,"  said  Dr.  Camperdown. 
"She's  going  to  be  well  looked  after.  I  don't  see 
why  every  one  comes  rushing  to  me.  My  father 
began  it  when  he  died  with  his  admonition  to  do 
something  for  the  Delavigne  child  if  I  had  a  chance. 


94 


THE    HOUSE    OF    ARMOUR 


1;; 


tt 


•■!'! 


ir 


i 


I 


You  have  always  been  at  me,  and  yesterday  Macart- 
ney cornered  me." 

"  Macartney  !  not  the  Irish  officer  who  used  to 
admire  Flora ! " 

"The  same." 

**What  does  he  want  you  to  do  ?  " 

"  To  look  after  her  in  a  general  way.  He's  in 
love  with  her." 

"  Oh,  Brian  ! " 

"  I  suppose  I'm  a  simpleton  for  telling  you,"  he 
said  eyeing  her  reluctantly.  "You  women  have 
men  just  like  wax  in  your  hands.  You  twist  every- 
thing out  of  us." 

"  I  do  not  think  you  mean  that,"  she  said  quietly 

He  scrambled  from  his  chair  and  before  she 
knew  his  intention  had  her  shapely  hands  in  his  and 
was  mumbling  over  them  :  "  Darling,  darling,  I 
would  trust  you  with  my  soul." 

She  looked  down  at  him  sadly  as  he  passionately 
kissed  her  fingers  and  returned  them  to  her  lap. 
Then  she  leaned  over  and  stroked  softly  his  tumbled 
head,  and  murmuring,  "  Poor  boy  ! "  pointed  to  the 
clock. 

"  I  was  going  to  ask  you  to  stay  to  tea,"  she  said, 
"but " 

"  I  will  be  good — I  will  be  good,"  he  ejaculated 
lifting  his  flushed  face  to  hers  and  hurrying  back 
into  his  chair.  "  It  was  a  moment  of  madness ; 
it  won't  happen  again." 


THE    PAVILION 


95 


"That  is  what  you  always  say,  Brian." 

"  I  will  keep  my  promise  this  time.  I  really 
will."  Then  forcing  his  hands  deep  down  into  his 
pockets,  he  said  insinuatingly  :  "  You  can  so  easily 
stop  my  display  of  devotion,  it  is  a  strange  thing 
that  you  don't  do  it." 

"  How  can  I  do  so  ?  "  she  asked  with  an  eager- 
ness that  was  not  pleasing  to  him. 

"  By  marrying  me." 

"  Marry  you  to  get  rid  of  you,"  she  said  with 
incredulity.  "Ah,  Brian,  I  know  you  better  than 
that.  You  will  be  a  good  husband  to  the  woman 
you  marry.  I  can  imagine  myself  married  to  you," 
she  went  on  pensively ;  '•  we  should  be  what  is  almost 
better  than  lovers,  and  that  is  companions.  You 
would  be  with  me  as  constantly  as  Mascerene  there," 
and  she  pointed  to  a  huge,  black  dog  lying  with 
watchful  head  on  his  paws  behind  her  davenport. 

"You  will  marry  me  some  day,"  said  the  man 
doggedly.  "  If  I  thought  you  would  not,  I  would 
tie  a  stone  around  my  neck  and  drop  into  the  harbor 
to-morrow.  No,  I  would  not,"  he  added  bitterly. 
"We  don't  do  that  sort  of  thing  nowadays.  I'd 
have  the  stone  in  my  heart  instead  of  around  my 
neck  and  I'd  live  on,  a  sour,  ugly  old  man,  till  God 
saw  fit  to  rid  the  world  of  me.  Do  you  know  what 
love,  even  hopeless  love,  does  for  a  man,  Stargarde  ? 
what  my  love  for  you  does  for  me  ?  What  have  I 
to  remember  of  my  childhood  ?     Painful   visions ; 


» 


96 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


u: 


m 


my  father  and  mother  each  side  of  the  fire  Hke  this 
sorrowing  at  the  wickedness  of  the  world.  Then  I 
met  you,  a  bonny,  light-hearted  girl.  I  loved  you 
the  first  time  I  saw  you.  You  have  been  in  my 
thoughts  every  minute  of  the  time  since.  In  the 
morning,  at  night  in  my  dreams.  With  you  I  am 
still  an  ugly,  cross-grained  man  ;  without  you  I 
should  be  a  devil." 

The  woman  listened  attentively  to  what  he  said, 
shading  her  eyes  from  the  firelight  with  her  hand, 
and  looking  at  him  compassionately.  "  Poor  old 
Brian,  poor  old  Brian,"  she  said  when  he  sank 
back  into  his  chair  and  closed  his  mouth  with  a 
snap.  *'  I  am  so  sorry  for  you.  I  should  never 
have  the  heart  to  marry  another  man  when  you 
love  me  so  much.  If  I  ever  marry  it  will  be  you. 
Still,  you  know  how  it  is.  My  heart  is  in  my  work. 
It  is  not  with  you." 

"  If  you  felt  it  going  out  toward  me  would  you 
stop  it?  "  he  said  eagerly. 

"  No,  a  thousand  times  no,"  she  said  warmly. 
"  I  believe  that  the  noblest  and  best  thing  a  man 
or  woman  can  do  is  to  marry.  God  intended  us  to 
do  so.  If  a  man  loves  a  woman  and  she  loves  him, 
they  should  marry  if  there  are  no  obstacles  in  the 
way.  Is  not  that  what  I  am  always  glorifying, 
Brian,  the  family,  the  family — the  noblest  of  all  in- 
stitutions upon  the  earth  ?  The  one  upon  which 
the  special  blessing  of  our  Creator  rests.     But,"  in  a 


S-fej  ,v 


THE    PAVILION 


97 


lower  voice  and  looking  earnestly  at  him,  "  I  should 
never  be  guilty  of  that  crime  of  crimes,  namely, 
marrying  a  man  whom  I  do  not  love." 

"I  know  you  would  not,"  he  said  uneasily. 

"You  would  not  wish  me  to,  Brian,"  she  con- 
tinued. "You  are  an  honest,  God-fearing  man. 
If  I  could  put  my  hand  in  yours  now  and  say, 
*  Here  I  am,  but  I  do  not  love  you,'  you  would 
spurn  such  a  gift,  would  you  not?  You  would 
say,  *  I  prefer  to  wait  till  you  can  give  me  your 
whole  self,  not  the  least  worthy  part  of  yourself" 

He  stirred  about  restlessly  in  his  chair  when  she 
paused  as  if  expecting  some  answer  from  him.  "  I 
do  not  know,"  he  murmured  at  last.  "  If  you  gave 
me  the  chance,  I  think  I  would  embrace  it.  I 
think,  Stargarde,  that  if  you  would  come  out  of 
this  and  live  with  me,  you  would  get  to  like  me." 

"Oh,  vain  and  stupid  fallacy,"  she  exclaimed 
despairingly  ;  "can  you  not  see  it? " 

He  did  not  answer,  and  there  was  a  long  silence 
between  them,  till  she  began  to  speak  again,  re- 
garding him  with  a  lovely  smile  of  pity  and  affec- 
tion. "  You  see  what  a  terrible  responsibility  has 
been  laid  upon  women,  Brian.  Men,  by  their  long 
habit  of  indulging  themselves  in  every  impulse  and 
giving  freer  rein  to  passion  than  women  do,  cannot 
so  well  control  themselves.  The  woman  must 
stand  firm.  I,  by  reason  of  your  great  affection  for 
me,  which  I  accept  with  all  gratitude  and  humility, 


li* 


ti  I 


ill 


f  i 


i  t 


98 


THE  HOUSE  OF  ARMOUR 


feel  that  I  have  a  charge  over  you.  I  wish  with  all 
my  heart  that  you  could  transfer  your  love  to  some 
other  woman.  If  you  do  not  and  cannot,  and  I 
ever  have  the  happiness  to  rega  a  you  with  the 
same  affection  that  you  regard  me,  you  may  be 
sure  that  I  shall  marry  you." 

The  light  of  hope  that  played  over  his  rugged 
features  almost  made  them  handsome,  till  Stargarde 
went  on  wamingly  :  "  But  that  day  I  fear  will  never 
come.  Looking  upon  you  as  a  dear  brother,  and 
having  lived  to  the  age  of  thirty  years  without  fall- 
ing in  love  with  any  man,  I  fear  that  I  shall  never 
do  so." 

"Is  that  true?"  he  gasped  with  the  famished 
eagerness  of  a  dog  that  snatches  for  a  whole  joint 
and  only  gets  a  bone.  "  Have  you  never  fancied 
any  of  the  men  that  have  fancied  you  ?  " 

"  Never,"  she  said  with  a  smile  and  a  shake  of 
her  head. 

"  How  many  proposals  have  you  had  ?  " 

"I  forget ;  about  twenty,  I  think." 

His  mouth  worked  viciously  as  if  he  would  like 
to  devour  her  quondam  Svers. 

"What  a  long  way  we  have  wandered  from 
Vivienne  Delavigne,"  said  Stargarde.  "  You  were 
saying  that  Captain  Macartney  is  in  love  with  her. 
Does  she  love  him  ?  " 

"  No,  though  it  will  probably  end  in  that.  He's 
very  much  in  earnest,  for  he  vowed  to  me  that  he 


THE    PAVILION 


99 


rom 
^ere 
ler. 


Le's 
he 


I 


couldn't  marry.  When  a  man  does  that  you  may 
be  sure  he's  just  about  to  throw  everything  over- 
board for  some  woman." 

"  Does  he  know  all  about  her?" 

"  Yes  ;  but  his  stepmother  stands  behind  egging 
him  on.  She's  probably  promised  a  generous  set- 
tlement on  ma'm'selle  if  he  marries  her.  The  dis- 
grace was  the  black  beast  in  the  way  ;  but  I  imagine 
he'll  make  up  his  mind  to  hang  on  to  the  old  mar- 
quis and  ignore  the  embezzlement.  A  decent  fel- 
low, Macartney,  as  those  military  men  go,"  he 
added  in  the  condescending  tone  in  which  a  civilian 
in  Halifax  \\ill  allow  a  few  virtues  to  the  military 
sojourners  in  the  city. 

"I  like  him,'*  said  Stargarde  emphatically,  "yet 
Vivienne  Delavigne  may  not.  I  wish,  Brian,  that 
she  was  a  little  older,  and  you  a  little  fickle." 

"  Why  do  you  wish  that  ?  " 

"  Because,  what  a  charming  wife  she  would  make 
for  you.  I  am  sure  she  is  good  and  gentle,  and 
she  is  alone  in  the  world." 

"And  you?"  he  said  coolly. 

"Oh,  I  have  enough  here,"  she  said,  stretching 
out  her  arms  lovingly  as  if  she  could  take  in  her 
embrace  the  whole  of  the  large  brick  building. 
"  My  work  is  my  husband." 

He  was  about  to  reply  to  her  but  was  interrupted 
by  a  knock  at  the  door. 

"Brian,"  said  Stargarde  hurriedly,  "I  forgot  t^ 


■$.  : 


lOO 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


say  that  I  have  other  company  to  tea.  I  hope  you 
won't  object,  and  do  try  not  to  notice  her.  She  is 
one  of  my  charges,  and  oftentimes  a  troublesome 
one."  Then  turning  toward  the  door  she  said : 
"Come  in;  come  in,  dear." 


m 


\ 


I 


11 


i  is 
me 
id: 


CHAPTER  X 


ZEB   AND   A   TEA    PARTY. 

THE  door  swung  slowly  open  and  a  small,  mis- 
erably thin  child  stood  narrowly  inspecting 
them  through  black,  curly  wisps  of  hair  that  hung 
down  over  her  forehead  and  made  her  look  like  a 
terrier.  She  had  on  a  ragged,  dirty  frock,  and  a 
dingy  plaid  shawl  covered  her  shoulders. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  dear  child,"  said  Star- 
garde,  going  to  meet  her  and  taking  her  warmly  by 
the  hand.  "  Come  into  the  bedroom  and  take  off 
your  things." 

The  child  picked  off  the  back  of  her  black  head 
a  tiny  boy's  cap  that  lay  there  like  an  ugly  patch, 
and  plucking  impatiently  at  her  shawl  to  draw  it 
from  her  shoulders,  flashed  Stargarde  an  adoring 
glance  and  followed  her  into  an  inner  room. 

"  Will  you  wash  your  face,  dear  ? "  said  Star- 
garde,  pouring  some  water  from  a  ewer  to  a  little 
basin  that  she  placed  on  a  chair.  "  Here  is  a  clean 
towel  and  some  of  the  nicest  soap.  Just  smell  it. 
Somebody  sent  it  to  me  from  Paris." 

The  girl  tossed  back  her  hair  from  her  dirty  face 
and  dabbled  her  hands  in  the  water.      "  Who's  that 

lOI 


102 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


cove  out  there  ?  "  she  said  with  an  ugly  scowl  and 
jerking  her  head  in  the  direction  of  the  other 
room. 

"A  friend  of  mine,  Dr.  Camperdown.  He  is  a 
nice  man,  Zeb.     I  hope  you  will  like  him." 

"Them  dirty  swells,  I  hate  'em,"  returned  the 
child. 

Stargarde  was  silent.  To  try  at  the  outset  to  re- 
form the  vocabulary  of  a  child  of  the  gutter  was, 
she  knew,  a  mistake.  The  girl  had  been  brought 
up  in  an  evil  atmosphere,  and  her  little  perverted 
mind  was  crammed  with  bitter  prejudices  against 
all  who  were  better  off  in  regard  to  this  world's 
goods  than  she  was  herself.  Stargarde  watched 
pityingly  the  sullen  face  bending  over  the  basin. 

"  He  wants  yer,"  said  the  child  suddenly,  and 
with  an  acute  spasm  of  jealousy  contracting  her 
brows.  "  I  seed  it  in  him.  He'll  take  yer  away 
from  the  Pav." 

Stargarde  blushed  a  little.  Just  for  one  instant 
she  was  tempted  by  a  natural  disinclination  not  to 
discuss  her  love  affairs  with  such  an  uncongenial 
being  as  the  one  before  her.  Then  she  remem- 
bered her  invariable  maxim,  "  No  prevarication. 
Perfect  frankness  in  my  dealings  with  my  fellow- 
men,"  and  said  gently :  *'  I  am  not  willing  to  go, 
Zeb,  I  shall  stay  here." 

"  Not  if  he  coaxes  yer  ?  "  said  the  child  eagerly. 

*'No,  Zeb." 


n 


ZEB    AND   A   TEA    PARTY 


103 


The  little  renegade  scrubbed  vigorously  at  her 
face  without  making  reply.  Then  polishing  her 
hands  with  a  towel  she  approached  Stargarde. 
"  Will  yer  kiss  me  now  ?  "  she  said  humbly. 

"Yes,  darling,"  and  the  beautiful  woman  took 
the  duty  child  to  her  breast  in  a  warm  embrace. 

The  child's  clothes  were  not  clean.  In  fact 
months  had  passed  over  her  head  since  her  dress 
had  made  acquaintance  with  the  washtub.  *'  Zeb," 
said  Stargarde  hesitatingly,  "  I  have  a  little  cotton 
frock  here" — the  child  frowned  angrily  and  re- 
garded her  with  a  glance  as  proud  as  Lucifer's.  "  It 
is  just  like  mine,"  went  on  Stargarde.    "  Look,  Zeb." 

She  took  a  small  garment  from  a  closet  and 
showed  the  child  the  coquettish  frills  adorning  the 
skirt  and  neck.  "Seeing  it's  you,"  said  the  child 
graciously,  "  I'll  take  it.  But  we's  no  beggars, 
mind  that !  Mam  and  pap' 11  kill  me,  likely,  but  I 
don't  care,"  and  with  a  fine  assumption  of  indif- 
ference she  pulled  off  her  ragged  gown,  kicked  it 
contemptuously  aside,  and  allowed  Stargarde  to 
slip  over  her  head  the  new  and  pretty  dress  which 
tortures  would  not  have  forced  her  to  don,  if  it  had 
not  been  for  the  fortunate  occurrence  that  it  was 
made  from  a  similar  piece  of  material  to  that  cloth- 
ing the  woman  she  so  passionately  admired. 

"I  will  speak  to  your  mother  about  it,"  said 
Stargarde  reassuringly,  as  she  buttoned  her  visitor 
up.     "  I  don't  think  she  will  mind."     Zeb  thrust  a 


I04 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


hand  into  hers  without  speaking  and  walked  silently 
out  to  Dr.  Camperdown  with  her.  When  Stargarde 
introduced  her  to  him  she  put  out  her  tongue,  stuck 
up  her  shoulder  at  him,  and  half  turning  her  back 
drew  up  a  little  footstool  to  the  grate,  to  which  she 
sat  so  close  that  Stargarde  was  in  momentary  fear 
lest  she  should  catch  fire. 

"Now,  what  shall  we  have  for  tea?"  said  Star- 
garde cheerily.  "Let  every  one  choose  what  he 
would  like.     What  are  you  for,  Brian  ?  " 

"Anything  you  choose  to  give  me,"  he  said 
agreeably,  "provided  there  is  enough  of  it  I'm 
as  hungry  as  a  hunter  this  evening.  Good  break- 
fast, but  patients  were  dogging  me  all  lunch  time, 
and  I  haven't  broken  my  fast  yet." 

"Well,  we'll  give  you  something  substantial," 
replied  his  hostess.      "  What  will  you  have,  Zeb  ?  " 

"Something  in  the  line  o'  birds,"  said  the  child, 
a  hard  and  hungry  look  coming  into  her  eyes.  "  I 
sees  *em  hangin'  up  in  the  shops,  I  smells  'em  and 
sees  the  dogs  lickin*  the  bones,  but  never  a  taste 
gets  I.     Say  turkey,  missis,  or  goose." 

"They  have  some  turkeys  over  at  the  restaurant, 
I  saw  them  to-day,"  said  Stargarde  clapping  her 
hands  like  a  child.  "  We'll  have  one,  and  stuffing, 
Zeb,  and  hot  potato.     Come,  let  us  go  and  get  it." 

The  child  sprang  up,  and  clasping  her  hand  Star- 
garde hurried  out  of  the  room  and  across  the  yard 
to  the  gay  little  eating  house,  going  with  the  utmost 


V 


ZEB    AND   A   TEA    PARTY 


105 


y 

[e 
k 
k 
le 
ir 

r- 
e 

d 
n 

-> 


speed  so  that  they  might  not  take  cold.  Breathless 
and  laughing  they  pulled  up  outside  the  door,  and 
opening  it,  walked  soberly  in.  The  child  squeezed 
her  patron's  hand  with  delight  The  large,  bright 
room  before  her,  with  its  light  walls  adorned  with 
pictures  and  its  floor  covered  with  little  tables  where 
people  were  eating  and  drinking,  was  like  a  glimpse 
of  heaven  to  her.  Stargarde  went  up  to  the  counter. 
"Good-evening,  Mary,"  she  said  to  a  pretty 
young  girl  there  ;  "  can  you  let  me  have  a  basket 
to  put  some  purchases  in  ?  Ah,  that  is  just  what  I 
want,"  as  the  girl,  diving  behind  the  counter  brought 
up  one  of  the  light  flexible  things  made  by  the  In- 
dians of  Nova  Scotia.  "  Now  first  of  all  we  want 
a  turkey,  a  small  one — no,  a  large  one,"  in  response 
to  a  warning  pressure  from  Zeb's  fingers.  "See, 
there  is  one  coming  from  the  kitchen  on  a  platter. 
Isn't  he  a  monster!  Put  him  in  a  covered  dish, 
Mary,  and  pop  him  into  the  basket  with  a  dish  of 
potatoes  and — ^what  vegetables  have  you  ?  " 

"Turnips,  beets,  parsnips,  carrots,  squash " 

"Well,  give  us  some  of  each,  but  we'll  have  to  get 
the  boy  to  help  us  carry  them.  We  never  can  take 
all  these  things.  And  cranberry  sauce,  don't  forget 
that  Pickles,  Zeb  ?  Do  you  want  some  of  them  ? 
Very  good,  we'll  have  a  bottle.  Have  you  made 
your  mince  pies  yet?  No.  Well,  we'll  have  a 
lemon  one  and  a  strawberry  tart  and  some  fruit 
Will  you  have  grapes  or  oranges,  Zeb?" 


i 


Hi  I'*-    i 
WW'    • 

mtf  V 


1 06 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"Dates,  and  figs,  and  nuts,"  gurgled  the  child  in 
almost  speechless  delight. 

Stargarde  stifled  a  laugh.  "So  be  it  Mary,  and 
cheese  and  crackers  for  Dr.  Camperdown.  Now 
Zeb  let  us  take  this  basket  and  run  home  and  Mary- 
will  send  the  rest." 

Camperdown  looked  up  in  amazement  as  the  two 
burst  into  the  room.  "  What's  the  excitement  ?  " 
he  said,  getting  up  and  standing  with  his  back  to 
the  fire.  "Here,  let  me  put  your  basket  on  the 
table.     What's  all  this  ?  " 

"  Dear  Brian,"  said  Stargarde  breathlessly,  "you 
must  not  talk.  Only  help  us.  Set  all  these  dishes 
on  the  hearth  to  keep  hot.  I  should  have  set  my 
table  before  we  went  to  the  restaurant.  Alas,  I  am 
a  poor  housekeeper.  Zeb  dear,  here  is  the  cloth ; 
spread  it  on  the  table ;  and  Brian  do  help  her  to 
put  the  knives  and  forks  and  plates  around.  I  will 
make  the  tea  or  coffee — ^which  would  you  rather 
have?" 

"  Coffee  for  me,  if  it's  dinner,"  said  Camperdown. 
"  I  smell  meat,  don't  I  ?  What  do  you  call  this 
meal,  anyway?" 

"  I  call  it  anything,"  said  Stargarde,  "only  it  must 
be  eaten  hot.     Cold  things  are  detestable." 

"Tea  for  me,"  piped  up  Zeb  shrilly;  "I  hates 
coffee." 

Stargarde  uncomplainingly  searched  in  her  cup- 
board for  two  vessels  instead  of  one — brought  out 


ZEB    AND    A   TEA    PARTY 


107 


a  small  earthenware  teapot  and  a  tin  coffeepot, 
and  set  them  on  a  trivet  which  she  fastened  to  the 
grate.  Then  finding  a  small  kettle,  she  filled  it 
with  water  and  put  it  on  the  glowing  coals. 

"I  call  this  pleasant!"  exclaimed  Dr.  Camper- 
down  a  few  minutes  later.  The  dishes  were  all 
nicely  arranged  on  a  cloth  as  white  as  snow.  He 
had  a  spotlessly  clean  but  coarse  serviette  spread 
across  his  knees,  and  was  flashing  glances  of  admi- 
ration across  the  mammoth  turkey  before  him  at 
Stargarde,  seated  at  the  other  end  of  the  board. 
"  I  call  this  pleasant ! "  he  repeated,  picking  up  his 
knife  and  fork,  **  and  ?  woman  who  serves  a  dinner 
smoking  hot  deserves  a  medal.  My  old  dame 
thinks  it  a  crime  to  put  things  before  me  more  than 
lukewarm.  I  hear  her  coming  up  stairs  with  my 
dinner.  Tramp,  tramp — down  on  a  step  to  rest. 
Tramp,  hobble,  up  again — down  on  another,  just  to 
aggravate  me — bah,  I'll  dismiss  her  to-morrow  ! " 

Stargarde  looked  at  him  without  a  shadow  on  her 
resplendent  face.  "  You  are  like  the  dogs,  Brian," 
she  said  gayly  ;  "  your  bark  is  worse  than  your  bite. 
You  love  that  old  woman,  you  know  you  do." 

"I  don't  love  any  one,"  he  growled.  "You're 
not  eating  anything  there.  Stop  fanning  yourself 
and  attend  to  your  plate — have  some  more  turkey. 
This  is  a  beauty.  Where  did  he  come  from? 
The  country,  I'll  wager.  This  isn't  city  flesh  on  his 
bones." 


io8 


THE   HOUSE   OF  ARMOUR 


la 


" Cornwallis,"  said  Stargarde  thoughtfully.  "Un- 
fortunate creature — I  wish  we  did  not  have  to  eat 
him." 

"Now  Stargarde,"  said  the  man  warmly,  "for  one 
meal,  no  hobbies.  Let  the  S.  P.  C.  and  the  G.  H. 
A.  and  the  L.  M.  S.  alone  for  once.  Talk  nonsense 
to  me  and  this  young  lady  here,"  turning  politely 
to  his  fellow-guest. 

His  term  was  inadvisedly  chosen,  and  Zeb  flashed 
him  a  wicked  glance  over  the  bone  that  her  little, 
sharp  teeth  were  gnawing.  Stargarde  to  her  dis- 
may saw  that  there  was  a  smouldering  fire  of  distrust 
and  dislike  between  her  two  guests,  that  at  any 
moment  might  break  into  open  flame.  Zeb  was 
jealous  of  Dr.  Camperdown.  With  ready,  quick 
suspicion,  she  divined  the  fact  that  his  sympathies 
were  not  with  her  kind.  He  would  take  away  from 
her  and  her  fellow-paupers  the  beautiful  woman 
who  at  present  lived  only  for  them,  and  she  hated 
him  accordingly. 

She  had  only  recently  come  to  Halifax.  She  had 
experienced  different  and  worse  degrees  of  misery 
in  other  cities,  and  now  that  a  new,  bright  world 
was  dawning  upon  her,  it  was  not  pleasant  to  know 
that  her  benefactor  might  be  snatched  at  any  mo- 
ment from  her.  So  she  hated  him,  and  he  almost 
hated  her  as  a  representative  of  a  class  that  absorbed 
the  attention  of  the  only  woman  in  the  world  that 
he  cared  for,  and  who,  but  for  them,  would,  he 


ZEB    AND   A   TEA    PARTY 


109 


knew,  devote  herself  to  the  endeavor  of  making 
more  human  and  more  happy  his  present  aching,  , 
lonely,  miserable  heart. 

Aware  of  all  this,  Stargarde  kept  the  conversation 
flowing  smoothly  in  channels  apart  from  personal 
concerns.  She  talked  continuously  herself,  and 
laughed  like  a  girl  full  of  glee  when  the  moment 
for  changing  the  plates  having  arrived,  Dr.  Camper- 
down  and  Zeb  politely  rising  to  assist  her,  left  the 
table  deserted. 

When  they  reseated  themselves  she  drew  Zeb's 
chair  closer  to  her  own,  for  she  saw  that  the  child 
had  satisfied  her  hunger  and  at  any  moment  might 
commence  hostilities. 

"Will  you  have  some  tart,  Zeb?"  she  asked 
kindly. 

"Oh,  land,  no!"  said  the  child;  "I'm  stuffed. 
Give  it  to  piggy  there.  He's  good  for  an  hour 
yet,"  and  she  pointed  a  disdainful  finger  to  the 
other  end  of  the  table. 

Dr.  Camperdown  had  a  large  appetite — an  appe- 
tite that  was,  in  fact,  immense,  but  he  did  not  like 
to  be  reminded  of  it,  and  looked  with  considerable 
animosity  at  the  small  child. 

"  Do  not  pay  any  attention  to  her,  Brian,"  said 
Stargarde  rapidly  in  German,  then  she  turned  to 
Zeb.  "Dr.  Camperdown  had  no  dinner.  He  is 
hungry.  Won't  you  go  and  look  at  those  picture 
books  till  we  finish  ?  " 


no 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  I  don't  want  ter,"  said  the  child,  as  she  nestled 
closer  to  her,  "I  Hkes  to  be  with  yer." 

What  could  Stargarde  do  in  the  face  of  such 
devotion  ?  She  left  Dr.  Camperdown  to  his  own 
devices,  and  cracking  nuts  for  the  child  searched 
diligently  for  a  philopena.  Having  found  one  she 
shared  it  with  her,  related  the  pretty  German  cus- 
tom concerning  it,  and  promised  Zeb  a  present  if 
she  would  first  surprise  her  the  next  day. 

Zeb  listened  in  fascinated  attention,  only  throw- 
ing Dr.  Camperdown  a  glance  occasionally,  as  much 
as  to  say,  "  You  see,  she  is  giving  me  her  undivided 
attention  now." 

And  he  was  foolish  enough  to  be  restive.  "  If 
he  would  only  be  sensible — two  children  together," 
murmured  Stargarde,  as  she  got  up  to  pour  him 
out  his  coffee.  As  a  student  of  human  nature,  she 
was  amused  at  the  attitude  of  the  professional  man 
toward  the  outcast ;  as  a  philanthropist,  she  was  fear- 
ful lest  there  should  be  driven  away  from  her  the 
little  bit  of  vicious  childhood  that  she  had  charmed 
to  her  side. 

"  If  he  would  only  be  sensible  and  think  of  some- 
thing else!"  she  went  on  to  herself  "They'll 
come  to  an  open  rupture  soon.  I  must  try  to  re- 
strain Zeb,  for  she,  alas,  is  capable  of  anything.  I 
won't  look  at  him  as  I  give  him  his  coffee." 

Unfortunately  she  was  obliged  to  do  so,  for  as  she 
set  it  before  him,  he  said  childishly,  "  Do  you  put 


ZEB    AND    A   TEA    PARTY 


III 


the  sugar  in,"  thereby  obHging  her  to  give  him  a 
remonstrating  glance. 

Zeb  saw  the  blue  eyes  meet  the  admiring  gray 
ones  and  immediately  issued  an  order  in  her  shrill 
voice,  "  Gimme  a  cupper  tea." 

Stargarde  could  not  scold  people.  She  was  a 
born  mother — loving  and  patient  and  humorin:; 
weaknesses  perhaps  to  a  greater  degree  than  was 
always  wise.  She  patiently  waited  upon  her  second 
troublesome  guest,  and  sat  down  beside  her  with- 
out saying  a  word,  but  in  an  unlucky  instant  when 
she  was  obliged  to  go  to  the  cupboard  for  an  addi- 
tional supply  of  cream,  the  war  broke  out — the 
duluge  arrived. 

Zeb,  filling  her  mouth  with  tea,  adroitly  squirted 
a  thin  stream  of  it  the  whole  length  of  the  table 
across  Camperdown's  shoulder. 

He  saw  it  coming,  and  uttering  a  wrathful  excla- 
mation, jumped  up  from  his  seat.  Stargarde  heard 
him,  and  turned  around  hastily  just  in  time  to  hear 
Zeb  say  contemptuously,  "  Oh,  shut  up — ^you'll  get 
it  in  the  mouth  next  time." 

When  Camperdown  at  Stargarde's  request  ex- 
plained what  had  happened,  her  lovely  face  became 
troubled  and  she  looked  as  if  she  were  going  to 
cry. 

"Zeb,"  she  said  with  trembling  Hps,  "you  must 
go  away.  I  cannot  have  you  here  any  longer  if  you 
do  such  things." 


112 


THE   HOUSE   OF    ^.RMOUR 


The  child  sprang  to  her.  "  Don't  ye,  don't  ye  do 
that,  ril  slick  up.  Gimme  a  lickin',  only  let  me 
stay.  I'll  not  look  at  him — the  devil!"  with  a 
furious  glance  at  Camperdown.  "I'll  turn  round 
face  to  the  wall,  only,  only  don't  send  me  out  in 
the  cold." 

What  could  Stargarde  do  ?  Pardon,  pardon,  al- 
ways pardon,  that  was  the  secret  of  her  marvelous 
hold  on  the  members  of  her  enormous  family.  She 
drew  up  the  little  footstool  to  a  corner,  placed  the 
child  on  it,  and  shaking  her  head  at  Dr.  Camper- 
down,  sat  down  opposite  him.  "Take  people  for 
what  they  are — not  for  what  they  ought  to  be,"  she 
said  to  him  in  German. 

"You  are  a  good  woman,  Stargarde,"  he  re- 
turned softly  in  the  same  lan^^uage.  "  I  can  give 
you  no  higher  praise.  And  I  have  had  a  good 
dinner,"  he  continued,  drawing  back  from  the  table. 
"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  those  dishes? 
Mayn't  I  help  you  wash  them  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you.  Zeb  will  assist  me  when  you 
have  gone." 

He  smiled  at  her  hint  to  withdraw,  and  placing 
the  rocking-chair  by  the  fire  for  her,  said  wistfully : 
"  Do  you  really  wish  me  to  go  ?  " 

"Well,  you  may  stay  for  ^.alf  an  hour  longer," 
she  replied,  as  indulgent  with  him  as  she  was  with 
the  child. 

As  soon  as  the  words  left  her  lips,  he  ensconced 


'I'  1 


m 


ZEB   AND   A   TEA    PARTY 


113 


id 


himself  comfortably  in  the  arm-chair,  and  gazing 
into  the  fire  listened  dreamily  to  the  low-murmured 
sentences  Stargarde  was  addressing  to  the  child, 
who  had  crept  into  her  .irms  begging  to  be  rocked. 

**  I  wish  I  could  smoke,"  he  said  presently  ;  "  I 
think  you  don't  object  to  the  smell  of  tobacco,  Star- 
garde?" 

"  No,"  she  said  quietly,  "  not  the  smell  of  it" 

"  But  the  waste,  the  hurtfulness  of  the  habit,  eh?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I'll  take  the  responsibility  of  that,  if  you  let 
me  have  one  pipe,  Stargarde,  only  one." 

"One  then  let  it  be,"  she  repHed. 

With  eyes  fixed  on  her,  he  felt  for  his  tobacco 
pouch  and  pipe,  which  he  blindly  filled,  only  look- 
ing at  it  when  the  time  for  lighting  came.  Then  in 
a  state  of  utter  beatification  he  leaned  back,  smok- 
ing quietly  and  listening  to  her  clear  voice,  as  she 
swung  slowly  to  and  fro,  talking  to  the  child. 

After  a  time  Zeb  fell  asleep  and  Stargarde's  voice 
died  away. 

Camperdown  rose  slowly  to  his  feet.  He  knew 
that  it  was  time  for  him  to  be  gone  and  that  it  was 
better  for  him  to  call  attention  to  it  himself  than  to 
wait  for  an  ignominious  dismissal  as  soon  as  Star- 
garde should  come  out  of  the  reverie  into  which  she 
had  fallen. 

"  Good-bye,"  he  said  in  startling  fashion.  "  Take 
notice  that  I'm  going  of  my  own  accord  for  once, 

H 


i'l 


114 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


and  don't  put  me  out  any  more.  I'm  trying  to 
deserve  my  good  fortune,  you  see." 

"  Good-night,  Brian,"  she  said  gently. 

He  seized  his  cap  and  coat,  flashed  her  a  look 
of  inexpressible  affection  from  his  deep-set  eyes, 
and  was  gone. 


K^m 


■m 


to 


5ok 


CHAPTER  XI 

MRS.  MACARTNEY   GETS   A    FRIGHT 

A7IVIENNE  and  Judy  were  in  their  sitting  room 
V       reading  by  the  light  of  a  lamp  on  the  table 
between  them  when   the   younger   girl   suddenly 
pricked  up  her  ears. 

"  There's  a  puffing,  panting  sound  on  the  stair- 
case," she  said,  "  as  if  a  steam-tug  were  approaching. 
It  must  be  your  Irish  friend.  I'll  decamp,  for  I 
don't  want  to  see  her."  She  picked  up  her  crutch 
and  was  about  to  flee  to  her  bedroom  when  she 
was  arrested  by  a  succession  of  squeals. 

'•  Holy  powers  save  us,"  moaned  Mrs.  Macart- 
ney bursting  into  the  room.  "  There's  something 
odd  about  this  house  when  the  devil  lives  in  the  top 
story  of  it." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Judy  smartly  ;  "perhaps  you 
don't  know  that  these  are  my  apartments." 

Mrs.  Macartney  did  not  hear  her.  Holding 
Vivienne's  hands,  and  half  laughing,  half  crying, 
she  was  rocking  herself  to  and  fro. 

"  He  had  on  a  nigl  tcap  and  a  woman's  gown,  -, 
and  he  goggled  at  me  from  an  open  door ;  and,  me 
dear,  his  face  was  like  a  coal " 

"S 


Ii6 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  It's  Mammy  Juniper  that  you've  seen,  dear 
Mrs.  Macartney,"  exclaimed  Vivienne. 

"And  who  is  Mammy  Juniper?"  inquired  her 
visitor,  stopping  short  to  stare  at  her. 

"  She's  an  old  family  servant ;  sit  down  here  and 
I'll  tell  you  about  her." 

"Ah  me;  ah  me,"  wailed  the  Irish  lady  drop- 
ping on  a  sofa  ;  "  we  don't  have  people  of  her,  color 
in  my  peaceful  home.  Sure,  I  thought  me  last  hour 
had  come." 

"  She  is  very  black,"  said  Vivienne  gravely ; 
"  and  she  despises  the  other  colored  people  here. 
Mammy  is  a  Maroon.  Have  you  ever  heard  of 
that  race?" 

"Never,  me  dear  ;  I  didn't  want  to." 

"  They  were  a  fierce  and  lawless  people  living  in 
Jamaica,"  said  Vivienne;  "and  they  fought  the 
English  and  would  not  submit  till  they  heard  that 
they  were  to  be  hunted  with  dogs.  Then  they  gave 
in  and  were  transported  here.  They  disliked  Nova 
Scotia  because  they  said  there  were  no  yams  nor 
cocoanuts  and  bananas  growing  here,  and  no  wild 
hogs  to  hunt ;  and  the  men  couldn't  have  as  many 
wives  as  they  chose,  nor  have  cock-fighting  ;  so  the 
government  sent  them  all  to  Africa  ;  all  but  the  pa- 
rents of  Mammy  Juniper,  and  when  they  died  she 
became  a  servant  in  this  family." 

"A  fearsome  body  for  a  servant,"  said  her 
hearer ;  "aren*t  you  terrified  of  her,  me  dear?  " 


MRS.  MACARTNEY   GETS   A    FRIGHT 


117 


"  No,"  said  Vivienne  ;  "she  is  more  afraid  of  me 
than  I  am  of  her.     I  am  sorry  for  her." 

"  Don't  talk  about  her,  me  child,"  said  Mrs.  Ma- 
cartney with  a  shudder.  "Talk  about  yourself 
Aren't  you  shamming  ill  with  that  rosy  face?" 

"  I'm  not  ill,"  said  Vivienne  lightly.  "  This  is 
only  a  feverish  cold  ;  but  Dr.  Camperdown  won't 
let  me  go  downstairs." 

"  I  was  determined  to  see  you,"  said  Mrs.  Ma- 
cartney, pulling  Vivienne  beside  her  to  the  sofa. 
"  I  thickened  the  air  with  hints  that  I'd  like  to 
come  up,  but  Mrs.  Colonibel  tried  to  frighten  me 
with  tales  of  the  badness  of  your  cold." 

"She  doesn't  like  me  to  have  callers  up  here, 
for  some  reason,"  said  Vivienne. 

"She  likes  to  be  contrary,  me  dear.  'Tis  the 
breath  of  life  to  her,  and  maybe  she's  jealous  of 
your  handsome  room  " — looking  admiringly  about 
her — "  which  is  the  most  elegant  of  the  house.  Your 
whites  and  golds  don't  slap  me  in  the  face  like  the 
colors  downstair^  That's  the  lady  of  the  mansion's 
good  pleasure,  I  suppose.  Ah,  but  she  is  a  fine 
woman  ! " 

The  inimitable  toss  of  her  head  as  she  pro- 
nounced this  praise  of  Mrs.  Colonibel  and  the  wag- 
gish roll  of  her  eyes  to  the  ceiling  made  Vivienne 
press  her  handkerchief  to  her  lips  to  keep  from 
laughter  that  she  feared  might  reach  Judy's  ears. 

**  I  wish  you  coi'.ld  have  seen  her  ladyship  yester- 


j~ij'!L'j-.misaasm 


hA' 


m 


»*»i 


ii8 


THE   HOUSE   OF  ARMOUR 


day  when  she  came  to  invite  us  to  this  dinner,  me 
dear,"  said  Mrs.  Macartney  with  a  twisting  of  her 
mouth.  "  The  boy  at  the  hotel  brought  up  her  card 
— Mrs.  Colonibel.  'That's  the  Lady  Proudface,* 
said  I,  and  I  went  to  the  drawing  room ;  and  there 

she  stood,  and  rushed  at  me  Hke  this "  and 

Mrs.  Macartney  rising  from  the  sofa  charged  heavily 
across  the  room  at  an  unoffending  table  which 
staggered  on  its  legs  at  her  onset. 

Vivienne  half  started  from  her  seat  then  fell  back 
again  laughing  spasmodically.  "Me  dear,"  said 
Mrs.  Macartney  looking  over  her  shoulder  at  her, 
"she  thought  to  make  up  by  the  warmth  of  her 
second  greeting  for  the  coldness  of  her  first.  She 
said  she  wanted  us  all  to  come  and  dine  en  famillc^ 
to  celebrate  the  engagement,  so  I  thought  I'd  tease 
her  and  talk  French  too  ;  so  I  said,  'Wouldn't  we  be 
de  tropf  and  you  mustn't  suppose  we  belonged  to 
the  elite  of  the  world,  for  we  were  plain  people  and 
didn't  care  a  rap  for  the  opinion  of  the  beau  monde* 
You  should  have  seen  her  face !  And  then  I  took 
pity  on  her  and  said  we'd  come.  And  come  we 
did  ;  and  I'd  give  a  kingdom  if  you  could  see 
Patrick  and  Geoffrey.  They're  sitting  beside  Mrs. 
Colonibel,  bowing  and  smirking  at  everything  she 
says,  and  she's  thinking  she's  mighty  entertaining, 
and  when  we  get  home  they'll  both  growl  and  say 
they  were  bored  to  death,  and  why  didn't  I  tell 
them  you  weren't  to  be  present.     Me  dear,  I  didn't 


MRS.   MACARTNEY   GETS   A    FRIGHT 


119 


dare  to,"  in  a  stage  whisper,  and  looking  over  her 
shoulder.     "They'd  never  have  come." 

"  Is  Mrs.  Colonibel  not  at  cdl  embarrassed  with 
you  ?  "  said  Vivienne.  "  She  was  not  polite  to  you 
the  other  day,  though  of  course  it  was  on  my  ac- 
count, not  on  yours." 

"Embarrassed,  did  you  say,  me  dear?"  replied 
Mrs.  Macartney  gayly.  "  Faith,  there's  no  such 
word  in  society.  You  must  keep  a  bold  front,  what- 
ever you  do,  or  you'll  get  the  gossips  after  you. 
Dip  your  tongue  in  honey  or  gall,  whichever  you 
like,  and  hold  your  head  high,  and  there's  no  such 
thing  as  quailing  before  the  face  of  mortal  man  or 
woman.  Drop  your  head  on  your  breast  and  go 
through  the  world,  and  you'll  have  the  fingers 
pointed  at  you.  Me  Lady  Proudface  is  the  woman 
to  get  on.  If  you'd  seen  the  way  she  took  the 
news  of  your  engagement  you'd  have  fallen  at  her 
feet  in  admiration." 

"  She  suppressed  her  disapproval,"  said  Vivienne. 

"  Disapproval,  me  child.  'Twas  like  salt  to  her 
eyeballs  ;  but  she  never  winked.  Hasn't  she  said 
anything  to  you  about  it?  " 

"  No  ;  we  rarely  have  any  conversations." 

"  Ah,  she'd  have  but  a  limited  supply  of  compli- 
ments left  after  her  flowery  words  to  me.  By  the 
way,  did  you  get  the  grand  bouquet  that  Geoffrey 
sent  to  you  ?  " 

"Yes  ;  it  is  over  there  by  the  window." 


I20 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


i 


I 


"  He's  desolated  not  to  see  you,  as  the  French 
people  say ;  but  hist,  me  dear,  there's  some  one  at 
the  door.  Maybe  it's  her  ladyship.  I'll  go  into 
this  adjacent  room." 

"  No,  no  ;  stay  here,"  exclaimed  Vivienne  with  an 
apprehensive  glance  at  the  narrow  doorway  leading 
to  her  sleeping  apartment  "It  does  not  matter 
who  comes." 

"  It's  only  I,"  said  a  meek  voice,  and  Dr.  Cam- 
perdown's  sandy  head  appeared,  shortly  followed  by 
the  iest  of  his  body. 

Mrs.  Macartney,  not  heeding  Vivienne's  advice, 
had  tried  to  enter  the  next  room,  and  had  become 
firmly  wedged  in  the  doorway.  Dr.  Camperdown 
was  obliged  to  go  to  her  assistance,  and  when  he 
succeeded  in  releasing  her  she  looked  at  him  with 
such  a  variety  of  amusing  expressions  chasing  ther* 
selves  over  her  face  that  he  grinned  broadly  and 
turned  away. 

"  Who  is  this  gentleman  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Macartney 
at  last  breathlessly,  with  gratitude,  and  yet  with  a 
certain  repugnance  to  the  physician  on  account  of 
his  ugly  looks. 

Vivienne  performed  the  necessary  introduction, 
and  Mrs.  Macartney  ejaculated,  "Ah,  your  doctor. 
Perhaps,"  jocularly,  "  I  may  offer  myself  to  him  as 
a  patient."  Then  as  Dr.  Camperdown  took  Vivi- 
enne's wrist  in  his  hand  she  bent  over  him  with  an 
interested  air  and  said,  "It's  me  flesh,  doctor.     I 


f 


■II 


MRS.   MACARTNEY   GETS   A    FRIGHT 


121 


don't  know  what  to  do  about  it.  The  heavens 
seem  to  rain  it  down  upon  me — flake  upon  flake, 
layer  upon  layer.  I've  been  rubbed  and  tubbed, 
and  grilled  and  stewed,  and  done  Banting,  and 
taken  Anti-fats,  and  yet  it  goes  on  increasing. 
Every  morning  there's  more  of  it,  and  every  even- 
ing it  grows  upon  me.  I  have  to  swing  and  tum- 
ble and  surge  about  me  bed  to  get  impetus  enough 
to  roll  out ;  it's  awful,  doctor  ! " 

Vivienne  listened  to  her  in  some  surprise,  for  up 
to  this  she  had  not  imagined  that  Mrs.  Macartney 
felt  the  slightest  uneasiness  in  regard  to  her  encum- 
brance of  flesh.  But  there  was  real  anxiety  in  her 
tones  now,  and  Vivienne  listened  with  interest  for 
the  doctor's  reply. 

"  What  do  you  eat  ?  "  he  said  abruptly,  and  with 
a  swift  glance  at  her  smooth,  fair  expanse  of  cheek 
and  chin. 

"Three  fairish  meals  a  day,"  she  said,  "and  a 
supper  at  night." 

"  How  much  do  you  walk  ?  " 

"  Sure,  I  never  walk  at  all  if  I  can  get  a  carriage." 

He  laughed  shortly,  and  said  nothing. 

"  What  do  you  think  about  it,  doctor — is  it  a  dan- 
gerous case?"  said  Mrs.  Macartney,  twisting  her 
head  so  that  she  could  look  at  his  face  as  he  bent 
over  his  work.  Vivienne  saw  that  she  was  im- 
mensely impressed  by  his  oracular  manner  of  deliv- 
ering himself 


122 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


Ij-  i 


M 


"Do  you  want  me  to  prescribe  for  you?"  he 
asked,  straightening  himself  with  a  suddenness  that 
made  his  prospective  patient  start  nervously. 

"Ah,  yes,  doctc     please,"  she  said. 

"  Begin  then  by  dropping  the  supper,  avoid  fats, 
sweets,  anything  starchy.  Walk  till  you  are  ready 
to  drop  ;  heart's  all  right  is  it?  " 

"Ah,  yes,"  pathetically,  and  with  a  flicker  of  her 
customary  waggishness,  "my  heart's  always  been 
my  strong  point,  doctor." 

"  Report  to  me  at  my  office,"  he  went  on  ;  "  come 
in  a  week." 

She  shuffled  to  her  feet,  her  face  considerably 
brighter.  "You've  laid  me  under  an  obligation, 
doctor.  If  you'll  make  me  a  shadow  smaller,  I'll 
pray  for  the  peace  of  your  soul.  And  now  I  must 
go,  me  dear,"  she  said,  looking  at  Vivienne,  "or 
I'll  be  missed  from  the  drawing  room.  I  crept  away 
you  know." 

Vivienne  smiled.  Mrs.  Colonibel  had  probably 
watched  her  climbing  the  staircase. 

"I  must  go  too,"  said  Dr.  Camperdown,  rising 
as  Mrs.  Macartney  left  the  room.  "  You'll  be  all 
right  in  a  day  or  two.  Miss  Delavigne.  Mind,  we're 
to  be  friends." 

Vivienne  looked  up  gratefully  into  his  sharp  gray 
eyes.      "  You  are  very  good  to  come  and  see  me." 

"Armour  asked  me  to,"  he  said  shortly. 

"Judy  told  him  that  I  was  ill,"  said  Vivienne. 


MRS.  MACARTNEY   GETS   A    FRIGHT  123 

"  I  scolded  her  a  little,  because  I  did  not  think  I 
really  needed  a  doctor." 

"You    are  a  proud  little  thing,"  he  remarked 
abruptly. 

Vivienne's  black  eyes  sought  his  face  in  some  sur- 
prise. 

"  You  can't  get  on  in  this  world  without  help  " 
he  continued.  "  Be  kind  to  other  people  and  let 
others  be  kind  to  you.  How  do  you  and  Mrs. 
Colonibel  agree?" 

"Passably." 

"  Don't  give  in  to  her  too  much,"  he  said.  "A 
snub  does  some  people  more  good  than  a  sermon. 
Good-night,"  and  he  disappeared  abruptly. 


CHAPTER  XII 


LOVE  AT   FIRST   SIGHT 


H: 


VIVIENNE  and  Judy  were  having  afternoon 
tea  in  their  room,  when  the  lame  girl,  who 
was  amusing  herself  by  twirling  round  and  round 
on  the  piano  stool  while  she  ate  her  bread  and 
butter,  burst  into  a  cackling  laugh.  "Oh,  Vivienne, 
mamma  said  such  a  hateful  thing  about  you — so 
hateful  that  I  must  tell  you." 

Vivienne  laid  her  head  on  her  chair  back  and 
calmly  looked  at  her. 

"She  said,"  went  on  Judy  with  a  chuckle,  "she 
said,  'Throw  a  handkerchief  over  her  head  and 
you  will  see  the  peasant'  " 

Vivienne's  eyes  glittered  as  they  went  back  to  the 
fire,  and  Judy  continued,  "  It  was  such  a  detestable 
thing  to  say,  because  she  knows  that  you  are  more 
like  a  princess  than  a  peasant  Fancy  comparing 
you  to  one  of  the  Frenchwomen  that  one  sees  down 
in  the  market" 

Vivienne  made  no  reply  to  her,  and  Judy  went 

on  talking  and  grumbling  to  herself  until  she  heard 

footsteps  in  the  hall  outside. 

"Who  is  that  coming  up  here  ?  "  she  said,  peering 
124 


LOVE   AT   FIRST   SIGHT 


125 


through  the  half-open  door.  "As  I  am  a  miserable 
gossip,  it's  Stargarde  at  last,  the  mysterious  Star- 
garde,  about  whom  your  serene  highness  is  so 
curious." 

Vivienne  rose  and  gazed  straight  before  her  in 
polite  fascination.  Mr.  Armour  stood  in  the  door- 
way, and  behind  him  was  a  magnificently  developed 
woman  who  might  be  any  age  between  twenty-five 
and  thirty.  She  held  her  cap  in  her  hand,  and  the 
little  curls  in  her  masses  of  golden  hair  shone  round 
about  her  head  like  an  aureole.  A  mantle  muffled 
the  upper  part  of  her  figure,  but  Vivienne  caught 
a  glimpse  of  a  neck  like  marble  and  exquisitely 
molded  hands. 

The  girl  as  she  stood  criticising  her  visitor  did  not 
know  that  there  was  anything  wistful  in  her  at- 
titude, she  had  not  the  remotest  idea  of  bidding  for 
sympathy  ;  therefore  it  was  with  the  utmost  surprise 
that  she  saw  Stargarde's  arms  outstretched,  and  the 
mantle  spreading  out  like~a  cloud  and  descending 
upon  her. 

"  Poor  little  girl — ^shut  up  in  the  house  this  lovely 
weather,"  and  other  compassionate  sentences  she 
heard  as  she  went  into  the  cloud  and  was  enveloped 
by  it. 

When  she  emerged,  shaking  her  head  and  putting 
up  her  hands  to  her  coils  of  black  hair  to  feel  that 
they  were  not  disarranged,  Stargarde  was  smiling 
at  her. 


\\\ 


126 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


m 


"  Did  I  startle  you  ?  Forgive  me,  I  was  too  demon- 
strative ;  but  do  you  know,  I  fell  in  love  with  you 
before  I  saw  you  ?  " 

"  Did  you  ?"  responded  Vivienne,  then  turning  to 
Mr.  Armour,  who  was  loitering  about  the  door  as  if 
uncertain  whether  to  come  in  or  not,  she  invited 
him  to  sit  down. 

"Is  your  cold  any  better?"  he  asked  stiffly  as 
he  came  in. 

"Yes,  thank  you,"  she  replied.  "Dr.  Camper- 
down  is  driving  it  away." 

"  Stanton,"  exclaimed  Vivienne's  beautiful  visitor, 
flashing  a  smile  at  him,  "why  don't  you  introduce 
me?" 

"  I  thought  it  scarcely  necessary,"  he  said,  his 
glance  brightening  as  he  turned  from  Vivienne  to 
her,  "  after  the  warmth  of  your  greeting.  Yet,  if 
you  wish  it — this,  Miss  Delavigne,  is  our  friend 
Miss  Stargarde  Turner " 

"  Of  Rockland  Street,"  she  added  gravely. 

Vivienne  tried  to  hide  her  astonishment.  This 
woman  looked  like  an  aristocrat  Could  it  be  that 
she  lived  in  one  of  the  worst  streets  of  the  city  ? 

Stargarde  smiled  as  if  rer.  ding  her  thoughts.  "  It 
isn't  so  bad  as  you  think,"  she  said  consolingly. 
"Wait  till  you  see  it"  Then  she  turned  to  reply 
to  a  sharply  interjected  question  by  Judy. 

While  her  attention  was  distracted  from  her, 
Vivienne's  glance  wandered  in  quiet  appreciation 


n 


'4 


LOVE   AT   FIRST  SIGHT 


127 


over  the  classic  profile  and  statuesque  figure  of  her 
guest  as  she  sat  slightly  bent  forward  with  hands 
clasped  over  her  knees,  her  loose  draperies  encircling 
her  and  making  her  look  like  one  of  the  Greek 
statues,  rows  and  rows  of  which  the  girl  had  seen 
in  foreign  art  galleries. 

Who  was  she  ?  What  was  she  ?  And  how  did  it 
happen  that  she  had  the  extraordinary  strength  of 
mind  to  dress  and  comport  herself  so  differently 
from  the  ordinary  woman  of  the  world?  There 
was  about  her  also  a  radiance  that  she  had  never 
before  seen  in  the  face  of  any  human  being.  She 
did  not  unders*^^nd  then  as  she  did  later  on  that  it 
was  the  spirit  of  love  that  glorified  Stargarde  Tur- 
ner's face.  Her  great  heart  beat  only  for  others. 
She  was  so  permeated  and  suffused  with  a  sweet 
charity  toward  all  men  that  it  shone  constantly  out 
of  every  line  of  her  beautiful  countenance. 

Vivienne's  eyes  went  from  Stargarde  to  Mr. 
Armour.  He  had  a  wonderful  amount  of  self- 
control,  yet  he  could  not  hide  the  fact  that  he  ad- 
mired this  charming  woman,  that  he  listened  intently 
to  every  word  that  fell  from  her  lips. 

"  I  am  glad  that  there  is  some  one  he  is  interested 
in,"  thought  Vivienne.  "  Usually  he  seems  like  a 
man  of  stone,  not  of  flesh  and  blood." 

It  occurred  to  her  that  he  had  brought  Mis.: 
Turner  up  to  her  room  that  he  might  have  a  chance 
to  listen,  without  interruption,  to  the  clear,  sweet 


128 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


m 


:!• 


11,1, 


11 


I: 


i 


M 


tones  of  her  voice.  She  imagined  that  he  was  in 
love  with  her  and  that  his  family  threw  obstacles  in 
the  \/ay  of  their  meeting.  In  this  she  made  a  mis- 
take as  she  soon  found  out.  Stanton  Armour  was 
at  liberty  to  pay  Miss  Turner  all  the  attention  he 
chose,  and  the  whole  family  welcomed  her  as  an 
honored  guest. 

"  You  and  I  are  going  to  be  friends,"  said  Star- 
garde  turning  to  her  suddenly.     "  I  feel  it" 

"  I  hope  so,"  murmured  Vivienne. 

"Will  you  have  some  tea,  Israelitess  without 
guile  ?  "  asked  Judy  abruptly  flinging  an  arm  over 
Stargarde's  shoulder. 

"Yes,  dear,"  and  Stargarde  turned  her  face  toward 
her.      "Why  don't  you  come  to  see  me? " 

"Oh,  you  worry  me  with  your  goodness  and  per- 
fections," was  the  impatient  retort.  "You're  too 
faultless  for  ordinary  purposes.  I  get  on  better 
with  that  young  lady  there,  who  is  good  but  human." 

"  Have  you  found  some  faults  in  Miss  Delavigne 
already?"  asked  Stargarde  gleefully. 

"Yes,  plenty  of  them,"  said  Judy  reaching  down 
to  the  hearth  for  the  teapot. 

"What  are  they?"  asked  Mr.  Armour  soberly, 

"  I  haven't  time  to  tell  you  all  now,"  said  Judy. 
"  Come  up  some  day  when  I'm  alone  and  I'll  go 
over  them.  You  needn't  smile,  Vivienne,  I  will. 
What  have  you  been  doing  with  yourself  lately, 
Stargarde?     We  haven't  seen  you  for  an  age." 


i 


'f3 


LOVE   AT    FIRST   SIGHT 


129 


"  I've  been  in  the  country  finding  homes  for  some 
of  my  children," 

"  This  young  person  hasn't  the  good  fortune  to 
be  married,"  said  Judy  to  Vivienne;  ''and  by  chil- 
dren she  means  orphans  and  starvelings  that  she 
amuses  herself  by  picking  out  of  gutters." 

"  I  hope  that  you  will  be  interested  in  my  work," 
said  Stargarde  enthusiastically  to  Vivienne. 

"  No,  she  won't,"  said  Judy.  "  That  sort  of  thing 
isn't  in  her  line." 

"Judy,"  said  Mr.  Armour,  "it  seems  to  me  that 
you  are  monopolizing  the  conversation.  Suppose 
you  come  over  to  this  window  seat  and  talk  to  me 
for  a  while  ?  " 

She  followed  him  obediently,  and  after  they  were 
seated  burst  out  with  a  brisk,  "  Thank  heaven  for 
family  privileges  !  You  wouldn't  have  dared  say 
that  to  a  stranger." 

"No,"  he  said,  "I  don't  suppose  I  would." 

"You're  pretty  plain-spoken  though  with  every- 
body," said  Judy  critically;  "that  is,  when  you 
want  your  own  way.  When  you  don't  you  let 
people  alone.  Why  are  you  in  such  a  good  temper 
to-day?     Have  you  been  making  some  money?  " 

"A  little." 

"That's  all  you  care  for,  isn  i  it?"  pursued  the 
girl. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  asked,  a  slight  cloud 
on  his  face. 


130 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  Money  is  your  god,"  she  said  coolly. 

He  made  no  reply  to  her  and  she  went  on,  "  What 
a  pity  that  you  have  never  married  like  other  men. 
You're  almost  forty,  aren't  you  ?  " 

"Almost." 

"Just  Brian's  Camperdown*s  age;  only  there  is 
this  difference  between  you,  he  would  get  married 
if  he  could,  and  you  could  if  you  would.  I  know 
some  one  that  would  have  made  a  nice,  proud  wife 
for  you." 

"Judy,"  he  exclaimed,  holding  himself  a  little 
straighter  than  he  usually  did,  "what  are  you  talk- 
ing about? " 

"  Something  that  you  might  have  done  if  you  had 
been  as  sensible  as  some  people." 

"You  are  impertinent,"  he  said  angrily. 

"This  is  a  long  room,  and  we  are  some  distance 
from  the  fireplace,"  said  Judy  in  velvet  tones,  "yet 
if  you  raise  your  voice  our  two  darlings  yonder  will 
hear  what  you  are  saying." 

Mr.  Armour  gave  her  an  annoyed  glance. 

"  It  isn't  worth  your  while  to  quarrel  with  me," 
said  Judy  smoothly,  "the  only  person  in  the  house 
that  can  get  on  with  you.  And  what  have  I  done  ? 
Merely  hinted  that  a  charming  girl  of  twenty-one 
would  have  done  a  pretty  thing  to  sacrifice  herself 
to  an  old  bachelor  of  forty.  You  ought  to  feel 
flattered." 

"  I  don't,"  he  returned  sullenly. 


LOVE    AT    FIRST   SIGHT 


131 


M 


"  No  ;  because  you  are  a — a — because  you  are 
foolish.  You  ought  to  feel  willing  to  pay  six  thou- 
sand dollars  a  year  to  some  one  who  would  make 
you  laugh." 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  Miss  Delavigne?" 
he  said. 

"Why  she  amuses  you — can't  you  see  it? — ^you, 
a  regular  grum-growdy  of  a  man,  with  care  sitting 
forever  on  your  brow." 

"Judy,"  he  said,  "your  chatter  wearies  me." 

"  I  daresay,"  she  replied  ;  "  it  shows  you  ought 
to  have  more  of  it.  You'll  probably  go  mad  some 
day  from  business  worries." 

Mr.  Armour  picked  up  a  book  that  he  found  on 
the  window  seat  and  began  to  read  it,  while  Judy 
turned  her  back  on  him  and  stared  out  at  the  peace- 
ful waters  of  the  Arm. 

Stargarde  was  looking  earnestly  into  Vivienne's 
face.  "  You  dear  child  !  if  I  had  known  you  were 
ill  I  would  have  come  to  you  sooner." 

"  I  have  not  suffered  extremely,"  said  /"ivienne 
gratefully,  yet  with  dignity. 

Stargarde  shook  her  head  gently.  "  Do  you  care 
to  tell  me  how  you  get  on  with  Mrs.  Colonibel?" 

"We  rarely  come  in  contact,"  said  Vivienne  ; 
"we  have  nothing  in  common." 

"  You  do  not  like  her,"  said  Stargarde  sadly  ;  "  I 
know  you  do  not ;  yet  have  patience  with  her,  my 
child.     There  is  a  woman  who  has  lived  half  her 


M 


':t]..: 


; , 


I 


•'I 


^l:i 


II' pi 


m 

m 

■'I'i 


[<  i( 


"1  - 


;l      1 

11 


m 


w    ' 


132 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


life  and  has  not  learned  its  lesson  yet.  She  cannot 
bear  to  be  contra— opposed  ;  she  will  have  her  own 
way." 

Some  hidden  emotion  caused  Stargarde's  face  to 
contract  painfully,  and  Vivienne  seeing  it  said  gen- 
erously, "  Let  us  make  some  excuse  for  her.  She 
has  reigned  here  for  some  years,  has  she  not?  " 

"Yes  ;  ever  since  her  husband  died." 

"And  she  is  jealous  of  all  interference?  " 

"  Yes  ;  and  she  looks  upon  you  as  a  usurper.  Be 
as  patient  <  -  '  •  ^u  can  with  her,  dear  child,  for  she 
thinks  that  Sir.  ton's  object  in  bringing  you  here  is 
to  make  you  mistress  over  her  head." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  I  should  become  the  house- 
keeper here?  " 

"Yes;  I  do." 

Vivienne  started.  "Oh,  I  am  only  here  for  a 
short  time  ;  I  could  not  think  of  remaining." 

Stargarde  looked  at  her  affectionately  and  with 
some  curiosity,  and  seeing  this  the  girl  went  on 
hastily,  "  Mrs.  Colonibel's  husband  is  dead,  is  he 
not?" 

"Yes ;  he  was  much  older  than  she  was." 

"And  her  stay  here  depends  upon  her  cousin, 
Mr.  Armour?" 

"Yes  ;  he  gives  her  a  handsome  salary." 

"  It  is  rather  surprising  then  that  she  does  not  try 
to  please  him  in  every  respect." 

Stargarde's  eyes  lighted  up  with  brilliant  indig- 


LOVE   AT   FIRST  SIGHT 


133 


nation.  "You  bring  me  to  one  of  my  hobbies," 
she  exclaimed.  "  I  think  that  if  there  is  one  class 
of  people  on  whom  the  wrat|i  of  God  rests  more 
heavily  than  on  others,  it  is  on  the  good  Christian 
people  who,  wrapped  around  in  their  own  virtues, 
bring  up  their  children  in  an  atmosphere  of  pagan 
idolatry.  In  not  one  single  particle  is  the  child 
taught  to  control  itself.  The  very  moon  and  stars 
would  be  plucked  from  the  sky  if  the  parent  had 
the  power  to  gratify  the  child  in  that  way.  Noth- 
ing, nothing  is  denied  it.  And  what  happens? 
The  parent  dies,  the  child  with  its  shameless  dis- 
regard of  the  rights  of  others  is  let  loose  in  the 
world.  With  what  disastrous  results  we  see  in  the 
case  of  Flora  Colonibel.  Oh,  pity  her,  pity  her, 
my  child,"  and  Stargarde  gazed  imploringly  at 
Vivieime,  her  blue  eyes  dimmed  with  tears. 

Vivienne  witnessed  Stargarde's  emotion  with  a 
kind  of  awe,  and  by  a  gentle  glance  essayed  to 
comfort  her.  The  woman  smiled  through  her  tears, 
held  up  her  golden  head  bravely,  like  a  child  that 
has  accomplished  its  season  of  mourning  and  is 
willing  to  be  cheerful,  and  said  steadily  :  "  I  rarely 
discuss  Flora — it  is  too  painful  a  subject — but  you 
are  gentle  and  good  ;  I  wish  to  enlist  your  sympa- 
thies in  her  favor.     You  understand?  " 

"  I  will  try  to  like  her,"  said  Vivienne  with  great 
simplicity,  "for  your  sake." 

*'  Dear  child,"  murmured  Stargarde,  "  to  do  some- 


134 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


r.  \i 


v4 


thing  for  others  is  the  way  to  forget  one's  own 
trouble." 

Vivienne  assented  to  this  remark  by  a  smile,  and 
Stargarde  fixing  her  eyes  on  the  fire  fell  into  a 
brown  study.  After  a  time  she  turned  her  head 
with  one  of  her  swift,  graceful  movements,  and 
reading  Vivienne's  thoughts  with  a  readiness  that 
rather  disconcerted  her,  said  :  "  You  wish  to  know 
something  about  me,  don't  you  ?  " 

"Yes,**  said  the  girl  frankly. 

**  Good,  as  Dr.  Camperdown  says,"  replied  Star- 
garde.  **I  will  tell  you  all  that  I  can.  First,  I 
spent  the  first  twelve  years  of  my  life  as  the  eldest 
daughte.  of :.  poor  parson  and  his  wife.  What  do 
you  think  of  that?" 

*  It  is  easy  to  imagine  that  your  descent  might 
be  clerical,"  said  Vivienne  innocently. 

Stargarde  laughed  at  this  with  sucK  suppressed 
amusement  that  Vivienne  knew  she  must  have  some 
arriere pensee.  "They  were  not  my  real  parents," 
said  her  new  friend  at  last. 

"  Indeed,"  said  Vivienne,  measuring  her  with  a 
glance  so  pitying  that  Stargarde  hastened  to  say, 
"What  does  it  matter?  They  loved  me  better 
I  think  for  being  a  waif.  The  Lord  knows  all 
about  it,  so  it  is  all  right  You  want  to  know  who 
my  parents  are,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  do  not  tell  me  unless  you  care  to  do 


so. 


5» 


l>    1 


4 

I 


LOVE   AT    FIRST   SIGHT 


135 


do 


"  I  can't  tell  you,  child,"  said  Stargarde,  gently 
pinching  her  cheek.  "  I  will  not  say  that  I  do  not 
know ;  I  will  simply  say  that  I  prefer  not  to  tell 
anything  I  may  know.  ^Vould  it  make  any  differ- 
ence to  you  if  I  were  to  tell  you  that  my  fathei  ..ad 
been — well,  say  a  public  executioner?" 

*'  I  do  not  know ;  I  cannot  tell,"  said  Vivienne 
in  bewilderment.  "  I  could  never  imagine  that  you 
would  spring  from  such  a  source  as  that." 

"  Suppose  I  did ;  you  would  not  punish  the 
child  for  the  father's  dreadful  calling,  would  you?" 

•*  Most  persons  v/ould." 

•* Yes,  they  would,"  said  Stargarde.  "We  pun- 
ish the  children  for  the  sins  of  the  fathers,  and  we 
are  always  pointing  our  fingers  at  our  neighbors 
and  saying,  '  I  am  better  than  thou,*  as  regards  line- 
age.    And  yet,  in  the  beginning  we  were  all  alike. 

*  When  Adam  delved  and  Eve  span, 
Who  was  then  the  gentleman  ?'  " 

"That  was  years  ago,"  said  Vivienne  in  amuse- 
ment ;  "  blood  trickling  through  the  veins  of  gen- 
erations has  become  blue." 

'*  My  dear,  we  go  up  and  down.  The  aristocrats 
of  to-day  are  the  paupers  of  to-morrow,  except  in 
rare  instances.  I  do  not  think  any  the  more  of  you 
for  a  possible  existence  in  your  veins  o(  a  diluted 
drop  of  the  blood  royal  of  France.  I  can  under- 
stand your  sentiment  in  regard  to  it,  if  you  say,  *  I 


136 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


It '' 
mi} 


must  never  commit  a  mean  action  because  I  come 
of  a  line  of  distinguished  ancestry' ;  though  I  think  a 
better  sentiment  is,  *  Here  I  stand  as  noble  in  the 
sight  of  God  as  any  creature  of  earth  ;  I  owe  it  to 
him  and  to  myself  to  keep  my  record  clean.*  " 

An  alarming  suspicion  crept  into  Vivienne's 
mind.  "Are  you  an  anarchist?"  she  asked  anx- 
iously. 

*'  Oh,  no,  no,"  laughed  Stargarde ;  "  a  socialist 
if  you  will,  in  the  broad  sense  of  the  term,  a  Chris- 
tian socialist ;  but  an  anarchist  never." 

"  Are  you  a  loyal  subject  to  the  Queen  ?  " 

Stargarde  bent  her  beautiful  head.  "  I  am,  God 
bless  her !  Not  loyalty  alone  do  I  give  her,  but 
tender  love  and  reverence.  May  all  her  descend- 
ants rule  as  wisely  as  she  has  done." 

Stargarde  when  she  spoke  used  as  many  gestures 
as  Vivienne  herself  Then  she  was  brimful  of  per- 
sonal magnetism,  catching  her  hearers  by  the  elec- 
tric brilliance  of  her  bright  blue  eyes  and  holding 
them  by  the  pure  and  silvery  tones  of  her  voice. 
Vivienne  felt  her  blood  stir  in  her  veins  as  she  lis- 
tened to  her.  She  was  loth  to  have  her  visitor  go, 
and  as  she  saw  her  glance  at  the  clock  she  said 
hurriedly,  "  We  have  wandered  from  the  subject  of 
your  up-bringing." 

"Come  and  see  me  in  my  rooms,"  said  Stargarde 
rising,  "and  I  will  tell  you  all  about  myself  and 
how  I  went  to  live  vath  the  Camperdowns  when  ^  I 


»  V 


LOVE   AT    FIRST   SIGHT 


137 


was  twelve.  They  are  all  gone  now  but  Brian," 
and  she  sighed.  "  How  I  miss  them  !  Family  life 
is  such  an  exquisite  thing.  You,  poor  child,  know 
little  of  it  as  yet.  Some  day  you  will  marry  and 
have  a  home  of  your  own.  You  have  a  lover  now, 
little  girl,  haven't  you  ?  "  and  she  tilted  back  Vivi- 
enne's  head  and  looked  searchingly  into  her  eyes. 

"Yes,"  said  Vivienne  gently. 

Stargarde  smiled.  "  Before  he  takes  you  away  I 
wish  you  would  come  and  stay  with  me  for  a  long 
time.     Now  I  must  fly,  I  have  an  appointment  at 


SIX. 


I* 


"Good-bye,  Miss  Turner,"  murmured  Vivienne, 
as  her  caller  took  her  by  the  hand. 

"Good-bye,  Stargarde,"  corrected  her  friend. 

"  Stargarde — it  is  a  beautiful  name,"  said  the  girl. 

"It  is  a  great  worry  to  people  ;  they  ask  me  why 
I  was  so  named,  and  I  never  can  tell  them.  I  only 
know  that  it  is  German,  and  is  occasionally  used  in 
Russia." 

"Are  you  going?  are  you  going?"  called  Judy, 
limping  briskly  from  the  other  end  of  the  room. 
"  Wait  a  minute.  I  want  to  show  you  some  clothes 
that  I  will  give  you  for  your  poor  children." 

"  I  haven't  time,  I  fear." 
^,"1  will  send  you  home  in  a  sleigh,"  said   Mr. 
Armour,  strolling  toward  them. 

"  Oh,  in  that  case  I  can  give  you  a  few  minutes," 
said  Stargarde. 


iH; 


138 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


?f[1 


I 

if'; 


"  This  is  what  we  might  call  a  case  of  love  at  first 
sight,  isn't  it?"  said  Judy,  fluttering  like  a  kindly 
disposed  blackbird  between  Vivienne  and  Stargarde. 

Stargarde  laughed  merrily  as  she  went  into  the 
bedroom. 

Vivienne  was  left  behind  with  Mr.  Armour.  Ever 
since  her  interview  in  the  library  with  him  he  had 
regarded  her  with  some  friendliness  and  with  de- 
cided curiosity.     Now  he  asked  with  interest, 

"  Did  you  ever  see  any  one  like  Miss  Turner  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Vivienne  warmly,  "never;  she  is 
so  devoted,  so  enthusiastic  ;  her  proteges  must  love 
her." 

"  They  do,"  he  said  dryly. 

"  It  is  not  my  way  to  plunge  into  sudden  intima- 
cies," said  Vivienne  with  a  little  proud  movement 
of  her  neck ;  "  yet  with  Miss  Turner  I  fancy  all 
rules  are  set  aside." 

"  She  is  certainly  unconventional,"  said  Mr. 
Armour. 

"  I  wish  I  were  like  that,"  said  Vivienne.  "  I 
wish  that  I  had  it  in  me  to  live  for  others." 

"You  have  a  different  mission  in  life,"  he  said. 
"  You  are  cut  out  for  a  leader  in  society  rather  than 
a  religious  or  philanthropic  enthusiast.  By  the  way. 
Macartney  wants  your  marriage  to  take  placets 
soon  as  possible.  Of  course  you  concur  in  his 
opinion." 

"  Yes,"  said  Vivienne  absently,  "  I  will  agree  to 


mi 


LOVE   AT    FIRST   SIGHT 


139 


to 


anything  that  he  arranges.  As  I  told  you  the 
other  day,"  she  went  on  with  some  embarrassment, 
"  I  think  it  is  advisable  for  me  to  leave  here  as  soon 
as  possible.  However,  I  spoke  too  abruptly  to  yuu. 
I  have  been  wishing  for  an  opportunity  to  tell  you 
so. 

"  Have  you  ?  "  he  said,  twisting  the  corners  of  his 
moustache  and  trying  not  to  smile  at  the  lofty 
manner  in  which  she  delivered  her  apology.  "  It 
really  did  not  matter." 

"  No,  I  dare  say  not,"  she  replied  with  a  quick 
glance  at  him;  "but  I  was  not  polite." 

"  I  mean  it  did  not  matter  about  me,"  he  said. 
"  A  business  man  must  get  used  to  knocks  of  vari- 
ous kinds." 

How  conceited  he  was,  how  proud  of  his  busi- 
ness ability  !  Vivienne  shrugged  her  shoulders  and 
said  nothing. 

"About  this  engagement  of  yours,"  he  went  on ; 
**  if  you  please  we  will  allow  its  length  to  remain 
undetermined  for  a  time.  I  may  as  well  confess 
that  I  brought  you  here  for  a  purpose.  What  that 
purpose  is  I  do  not  care  to  tell,  and  I  beg  that  you 
will  not  speculate  about  it  Do  you  think  that  you 
can  make  up  your  mind  to  remri  i  under  my  roof 
for  a  few  weeks  longer?  " 

"  I  wounded  his  self-love  so  deeply  that  he  will 
never  recover  from  it,"  said  the  girl  to  herself. 
Then  she  went  on   aloud  in  a  constrained  voice. 


I40 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


**  It  is  scarcely  necessary  for  you  to  ask  me  that 
question.  To  stay  here  for  as  long  a  time  as  you 
choose  is  a  small  favor  for  me  to  grant  when  you 
have  been  kind  enough  to  take  care  of  me  for  so 
many  years." 

"Ah  thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Armour  aloud,  xo 
himself  he  added,  "  Proud,  passionate,  restless  girl. 
She  will  never  forgive  me  for  not  liking  her.  She 
has  her  father's  face  and  her  mother's  disposition." 


r-  t 


Uit 


that 
you 
you 
r  so 


CHAPTER  XIII 


xO 

5he 


n. 


>> 


DR.   CAMPERDOWN    MAKES   A    MORNING   CALL 

OLD  Polypharmacy,  Dr.  Camperdown's  horse, 
attached  to  a  sleigh,  was  pegging  slowly  out 
one  of  the  Arm  roads  on  the  dav  after  his  master's 
visit  to  Vivienne. 

The  afternoon  was  fine  and  brilliantly  sunny,  and 
Polypharmacy  unharried  by  a  check-rein,  and  almost 
happy  for  once  that  h<:  had  blinders  on,  kept  his 
head  down  and  his  eyes  half  shut,  on  account  of  the 
dazzling  glare  of  the  sun  on  the  white  fields  of  snow. 

If  Polypharmacy  was  half  asleep,  his  master  was 
certainly  very  wide  awake.  He  sat  in  a  stooping 
attitude,  his  body  responding  to  the  bumps  and 
jerks  of  the  little  open  sleigh  bobbing  over  the 
hillocks  of  snow,  and  his  keen,  bright  eyes  going 
like  an  eagle's  over  in  the  direction  of  Pinewood. 
When  they  reached  the  sullen,  dark  semicircle  of 
evergreen  surrounding  it,  he  slapped  the  reins 
smartly  over  the  back  of  his  lazy  quadruped,  and 
ejaculated  :  "Hie  on.  Polypharmacy,  and  hear  my 
programme — to  have  my  delayed  conversation  with 
my  lady  and  get  back  to  town  by  five.  Now  com- 
port yourself  accordingly." 

141 


^  ^^ , 


142 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


l^f  : 


ill  .^ 

ji  I'- 
ll 

fi  >-  -  ■ 

I'll 
ml 


Poiypharmacy,  with  a  disapproving  toss  of  his 
head  at  his  master's  haste,  yet  thought  it  better  to 
quicken  his  pace  and  was  soon  trotting  through  the 
lodge  gateway  and  up  the  drive  to  the  house. 

Arrived  in  front  of  the  hall  door,  Camperdown 
sprang  out  of  the  sleigh  and  attaching  a  weight  to 
the  head  of  his  horse  rang  a  smart  peal  on  the  bell 
that  brought  a  maid  tripping  to  the  door. 

"I  want  to  see  Mrs.  Colonibel,"  he  said  in  his 
usual  lordly  fashion  and  striding  past  her  into  the 
house.     •'  Is  she  at  home  ?  " 

The  girl  clung  to  the  door  handle.  "  No,  sir, 
she  isn't  at  home — that  is,  she  doesn't  want  to  see 
any  one." 

"She'll  see  me,"  he  said.      "Take  me  to  her." 

Mrs.  Colonibel  unaware  of  the  visit  in  store  for 
her,,  had  after  lunch  donned  a  dressing-gown  of  her 
favorite  shade  of  red,  had  put  on  a  pair  of  bed- 
room slippers  and  had  made  her  way  to  the  smoking- 
room,  an  apartment  that  was  unoccupied  at  that 
time  of  day. 

It  was  a  constant  source  of  chagrin  to  her  that 
she  had  neither  a  maid  of  her  own  nor  a  boudoir. 
A  number  of  times  she  had  hinted  to  her  cousin 
Stanton  the  desirability  of  bestowing  on  her  these 
privileges,  but  so  far  he  had  listened  in  unrespon- 
sive silence.  Of  the  delight  that  would  fill  her 
soul  could  she  but  speak  of  "my  maid"  and  "my 
boudoir"  while  engaging  in  conversation  with  her 


ft 


l:i 


DR.  CAMPERDOWN    MAKES    A    MORNING  CALL    1 43 


friends,  that  unsympathetic  man  had  not  the  slightest 
idea. 

With  brows  drawn  together  she  looked  discon- 
tentedly about  the  little  room,  which  however,  had 
a  certain  gaudy  comfort  of  its  own.  A  wood  fire 
was  burning  merrily  in  the  grate,  a  big  easy-chair 
by  the  window  held  out  inviting  arms  toward  her. 
She  had  been  at  a  sleighing  party  the  evening 
before  and  was  tired,  and  she  had  a  novel  and  a 
box  of  sweets  with  which  to  console  herself;  so  at 
last  she  sighed,  contentedly  and  subsiding  among 
soft  cushions  was  soon  deep  in  a  tale  of  love  and 
sorrow. 

At  one  of  the  most  harrowing  passages  in  the 
story,  where  the  heroine  involved  in  a  hundred  em- 
barrassments sees  no  chance  of  escape  and  where 
her  sad  condition  compelled  Mrs.  Colonibel  to  apply 
her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  'she  was  startled  by 
hearing  in  a  deep  voice, 

"But  Black  Donald  sat  in  his  coffin  and  ate  oat 
cake." 

Dropping  her  book  she  saw  Dr.  Camperdown 
hugging  himself  like  a  huge  bear  before  the  fire. 
"  Good  afternoon,"  he  said ;  "  I  met  that  new  do- 
mestic of  yours  in  the  hall  and  asked  her  name. 
She  said  it  was  Gregory.  Every  letter  of  that  name 
is  full  of  blood  to  me     Shall  I  tell  you  why  ?  " 

"  If  you  like,"  said  Mrs,  Colonibel  with  an  un- 
amiability  that  affected  him  not  in  the  least 


144 


THE    HOUSE   OF    ARMOUR 


I,    »■  ''. 


'Si.S    -« 


"  When  I  was  a  boy  I  used  to  visit  at  my  uncle's 
in  Yarmouth  county.  A  man  called  Black  Donald 
Gregory  murdered  his  sister  and  cousin  in  a  quarrel, 
and  the  whole  country  rang  with  the  story.  The 
sheriff  took  Black  Donald  to  Yarmouth  town  to  be 
hanged.  On  the  road  the  sheriff  would  say, 
*  Black  Donald,  you  have  only  twelve  hours  to  live ' ; 
and  Black  Donald  would  sit  in  iiis  cofifin  eating  oat 
cake  and  saying  nothing.  The  sheri^  .vould  say 
further,  '  Black  Donald  you  have  only  eleven  hours 
to  live.'  But  Black  Donald  sat  in  his  coffin  eating 
oat  cake  all  the  way  to  Yarmouth  town.  The  sheriff 
warned  him  every  hour,  but  Black  Donald  ate  oat 
cake  to  the  last,  cramming  a  bit  in  his  mouth  as  he 
mounted  the  scaffold.  Queer  story,  isn't  it?  It 
used  to  make  my  blood  run  cold.  Don't  mind  it 
now." 

Flora  shuddered,  and  without  answering  him 
picked  up  her  book  as  a  hint  to  him  to  be  gone. 
To  her  secret  dismay  he  appeared  to  be  just  in  the 
humor  for  a  gossip,  and  as  he  warmed  his  back  at 
the  fire  said  agreeably, 

"What's  that  book  you're  in  such  a  hurry  to  get 
back  to?" 

Mrs.  Colonibel  reluctantly  mentioned  the  name 
of  the  story. 

"  Been  ctying  over  it,  haven't  you  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  Wasting  tears  over  a  silly  jade  that  never  existed, 
and  over  a  nice  girl  that  does  exist  and  does  suffer 


DR.   CAMPERDOWN    MAKES.  A    MORNING  CALL    I45 


it 


i 

i 


I 


you'll  bestow  not  a  word  of  sympathy.  You  women 
are  queer  creatures." 

"  Not  a  bit  queerer  than  men,"  said  Mrs.  Coloni- 
bel,  goaded  into  a  response. 

"Yes,  you  are,"  he  retorted.  "For  double- 
twistedness  and  mixed  motives  and  general  incom- 
prehensibility, commend  me  to  women  ;  and  you're 
unbusinesslike,  the  most  of  you.  You,  Flora  Co- 
lonibel,  are  now  acting  dead  against  your  own  in- 
terests. What  makes  you  so  hateful  to  that  little 
French  girl  ?  " 

Mrs.  Colonibel  moved  uneasily  about  on  her 
cushions.  "She  isn't  little,"  she  said  ;  "she  is  as 
tall  as  I  am." 

"What  makes  you  so  hateful  to  her?"  he  said 
relentlessly. 

"  You  should  not  talk  in  that  way  to  me,  Brian," 
said  Mrs.  Colonibel  in  an  aggrieved  tone  of  voice. 
"  I'm  not  hateful  to  her." 

"  Yes,  you  are  ;  you  know  you  are, — ^hateful  and 
spiteful  in  little  feminine  ways.  You  think  people 
don't  notice  it ;  they  do." 

Mrs.  Colonibel  was  a  little  frightened.  "What 
do  you  mean,  Brian  ?  " 

"Simply  this.  Y'^u  have  a  young  and  fascinat- 
ing girl  under  your  roof  You  suppress  her  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  she  will  soon  be  a  married  woman 
and  in  a  position  to  lord  it  over  you.  People  are 
talking  about  it  already." 


146 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  That  wretched  Irish  woman !"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Colonibel ;  "  I  wish  that  she  had  been  born  without 
a  tongue." 

"  Don't  be  abusive  and  vulgar,  Flora.  Once  you 
get  that  reputation  there  isn't  a  man  in  Halifax  that 
will  marry  you.  You  know  your  ambition  is  to  get 
a  husband ;  but  you're  playing  a  very  bad  game 
just  now,  a  very  bad  one." 

At  this  bit  of  information,  of  which  his  victim 
was  only  too  well  assured  by  her  own  inner  con- 
sciousness, she  began  to  shed  tears  of  anger  and 
mortification. 

•*  Don't  cry,"  said  Camperdown  soothingly,  draw- 
ing up  a  chair  and  sitting  astride  it  within  easy 
reach  of  the  box  of  sweetmeats  on  her  lap,  •'  and 
don't  bite  your  handkerchief" 

She  would  have  given  the  world  to  be  alone,  but 
she  was  obliged  to  sit  still,  answering  his  questions 
and  watching  him  coolly  eat  her  sweets. 

"  Confide  in  me,  Flora,"  he  said  kindly  ;  **  I'm  the 
best  friend  you  have.  Tell  me  just  how  you  feel 
toward  Miss  Delavigne." 

"  I  hate  her,"  she  said,  striking  her  teeth  together 
and  tearing  her  handkerchief  to  shreds.  "  You've 
no  idea  how  I  hate  her,  Brian,"  and  she  burst  into 
violent  sobbing. 

She  had  thrown  off  all  disgutse,  as  indeed  she 
was  often  in  the  habit  of  doing  with  him,  for  he  un- 
derstood her  so  well  that  she  never  could  deceive 


DR.   CAMPERDOWN    MAKES    A    MORNING  CALL    I47 


liim  and  knew  that  she  gained  nothing  by  attempi- 
ing  to  do  so. 

"  That's  right,"  he  said,  stripping  the  paper  off 
a  caramel  and  transferring  it  to  his  cheek.  "  Un- 
burden your  conscience  ;  you'll  feel  better.  We'll 
start  from  that.  You  hate  her.  People  will  hate 
each  other ;  you  can't  help  it.  Now  let  us  con- 
sider the  subject  without  any  appeal  to  higher  mo- 
tives, which  would  only  be  an  embarrassment  in 
your  case.  Flora.  You  can't  help  hating  her ;  do 
you  hate  yourself?" 

"No,"  indignantly,  "you  know  I  don't" 

"  No,"  he  repeated  in  accents  of  blandishment ; 
"  out  of  all  the  world  the  person  set  up  for  your  love 
and  adoration  is  Flora  Colonibel.  Now  in  hating 
Miss  Delavigne,  and  in  showing  that  you  hate  her, 
are  you  doing  Flora  Colonibel  good  service?" 

He  would  not  proceed  ^'11  she  answered  him,  so 
at  last  she  vouchsafed  him  a  sulky,  "  No." 

"You're  working  right  against  Flora  Colonibel," 
he  said.  "  You're  blasting  her  prospects  for 
worldly  advancement ;  you're  preparing  her  for  an 
old  age  spent  in  a  garret." 

Mrs.  Colonibel  shivered  at  the  prospect  held  out 
before  her,  but  said  nothing. 

"  What's  your  income  apart  from  what  Stanton 
gives  you  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Five  hundred  dollars  a  year,"  reluctantly. 

"  Five  hundred  to  a  woman  of  your  expensive 


m 
.Ir ' 

I.'  li-i 


If:-'  - 


I'.': 


i 

I  ^ 
i^    : 


148 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


tastes  !  How  much  was  that  embroidered  toga  you 
have  on  ?  " 

"Thirty  dollars." 

"And  your  sandals,  or  whatever  they  are? " 

"Three." 

"And  the  book?" 

'*  Fifty  cents." 

"The  ring  on  your  finger?" 

"  Fifty  dollars." 

"That  is  eighty-three  dollars  and  fifty  cents. 
And  you  and  Judy  expect  to  live  on  five  hundred." 
Throwing  the  empty  confectionery  box  into  the 
fire,  he  rose  as  if,  in  intense  disapproval  of  her  plans 
for  the  future,  he  could  no  longer  stay  with  her. 

Mrs.  Colonibel  was  in  a  state  bordering  on  hys- 
terics. "  What  shall  I  do,  Brian  ? "  she  gasped, 
holding  him  convulsively. 

"  Mend  your  ways  and  increase  your  graces," 
succinctly.  "Stop  nagging  Stanton,  or  he'll  turn 
you  out  of  the  house  before  you're  a  twelvemonth 
older.  Treat  ma'm'selle  decently,  and  follow  Stan- 
ton's lead  in  everything.  He  is  your  employer. 
He  doesn't  love  you  overmuch,  but  he'll  not  be  a 
hard  one.  Good-bye."  And  gently  pulling  his 
coat  from  her  quivering  hand,  he  sauntered  from 
the  room,  muttering  to  himself,  "  Medicine's  bitter, 
but  it's  better  for  her  to  take  it." 

Going  on  his  way  down  tne  staircase  he  crossed 
the  lower  hall  and  looked  into  the  drawing  room. 


i  ^ 


H 


DR.  CAMPERDOWN    MAKtS   A    MORNING  CALL    1 49 


>> 


Its  only  occupant  was  Valentine,  who  lay  stretched 
out  at  length  on  a  sofa  reading  a  book  which  he 
closed  when  he  saw  Camperdown. 

"Beastly  cold  day,  isn't  it?"  he  asked,  putting 
his  hands  under  his  handsome,  graceless  head  to 
prop  it  still  higher. 

"  Depends  upon  your  standpoint,"  said  C?.mper- 
down  drily.      **  Where's  Stanton  ?  " 

"  In  town — in  his  office,  I  suppose." 

"  Why  aren't  you  there  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I've  about  cut  the  office.  Stanton  doesn't 
make  me  very  welcome  when  I  do  go." 

"You're  of  no  use  to  him,  probably." 

"  Well,  I  don't  adore  bookkeeping,"  frankly ; 
"and  Stanton  lets  me  take  no  responsibility  in 
buying  or  selling." 

"  Suppose  he  should  die,  also  your  father,  do  you 
think  you  could  carry  on  the  business  ?  " 

"  Couldn't  I ! "  said  Valentine,  with  all  of  a  young 
man's  sublime  confidence  in  his  own  capabilities. 

"  I'd  like  to  see  you  do  it,"  grimly.  "  Things 
would  go  '  ker-smash,'  as  old  Hannah  says.  What 
are  you  improving  you  mind  with  on  this  glorious 
day?     A  literary  family,  forsooth." 

Valentine  Armour,  who  with  all  his  faults  was  as 
sunny-tempered  as  a  child,  refused  to  tell  him,  and 
from  mischievous  motives  solely,  tried  to  roll  over 
on  his  book.  He  succeeded  in  getting  it  under 
him,  and  lay  on  it  laughing  convulsively.     He  was 


liii 


ih' 


150 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


slight  and  tall  of  figure,  but  his  strength  was  as 
nothing  against  the  prodigious  power  that  lay  in 
Camperdown's  limbs  when  he  chose  to  exert  him- 
self. 

Shaking  Valentine  like  a  rat,  he  lifted  him  with 
one  hand  by  the  waistband,  and  dropped  him  on 
the  hearth  rug,  where  the  young  man  sat  nursing 
his  crossed  legs,  and  convulsed  with  laughter  at  the 
various  expressions  of  disgust  chasing  themselves 
over  the  physician's  plain-featured  countenance. 

"Too  steep  for  you,  eh,  Brian?"  he  said  teas- 
ingly. 

•*  Erotic  trash  ! "  was  the  reply.  "  *  He  crushed 
her  in  his  arms' — reading  from  the  book — 'and 
smothered  her  with  kisses,  till  terrified  at  his  peission 

she  was '    Bah !    I'll  read  no  more.     You  young 

men  read  this  amatory  rubbish  and  say,  'That 
sounds  lively,*  and  look  around  for  some  one  to 
practise  on.  Why  don't  you  fill  your  mind  with 
something  solid  while  you're  young.  Do  you  think 
you  are  going  to  limp  axound  into  driveling  old  age 
looking  for  some  one  to  crush  to  your  breast  ?  If 
you  cram  your  mind  with  this  stuff  now,  it's  all 
you'll  have  when  your  gray  hairs  come.  You're  a 
fool,  Valentine.  Work  is  the  main  business  of  life 
— making  love  an  incident.  I've  had  my  eye  on 
you  for  some  time.     You  have  things  reversed." 

"Thank  you,"  gayly.  "Don't  you  ever  read 
novels?" 


DR.  CAMPERDOWN    MAKES    A    MORNING  CALL    I5I 


vi 


"Of  course  I  do.  Good  novels  have  a  mis- 
sion. Many  a  one  preaches  a  sermon  to  people 
that  never  listen  to  a  minister ;  but  this  trash  " — 
scornfully —  "into  the  fire  with  it ! "  and  he  tossed 
the  book  among  the  coals  in  the  grate. 

"  Peace  to  its  ashes,"  said  Valentine,  stifling  a 
yawn.     "  It  was  a  slow  thing,  anyway." 

"  Come  drive  to  town  with  me,"  said  Camper- 
down. 

•'  Can't ;  I'm  tired.  I  was  skating  all  the  morn- 
ing.    I  think  I'll  go  and  ask  Judy  for  a  cup  of  tea." 

"Is  ma'm'selle  civil  to  you?"  asked  Camper- 
down. 

"  Pretty  much  so.  I'm  trying  to  get  up  a  flirta- 
tion with  her,  but  she's  too  high  and  mighty  to  flirt, 
though  she  could  very  well  do  it  if  she  tried." 

"  I'm  glad  there's  one  girl  that  doesn't  worship 
your  doll  face." 

"That  she  won't  flirt  with  me  is  no  sign  that 
she  doesn't,"  said  Valentine  saucily.  "  Go  to  your 
patients,  Camperdown,  and  leave  the  girls  to  me. 

"  His  pills  as  thick  as  hand  grenades  flew, 
And  where  tliey  fell  as  certainly  they  slew.  " 

Camperdown  threw  a  sofa  cushion  at  him,  but 
Valentine  dodged  it,  and  placing  himself  comfort- 
ably by  the  fire  watched  lazily  through  the  window 
the  energetic  manner  in  which  the  friend  of  his 
family  jumped  into  his  sleigh  and  drove  away. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


F.^:l   ■  I 


lr?!rii 


;.;  ( 


\\r  ■•;• 


THE  STOLEN    POCKET-BOOh 

EARLY  one  evening  Stargarde  was  stitting  sew- 
ing in  her  room  when  she  heard  on  the 
veranda  the  blustering  noise  that  usually  accom- 
panied D**.  Camperdown's  arrival.  She  smiled  and 
glanced  apprehensively  at  Zeb,  who  had  been 
spending  the  day  with  her,  and  who  now  lay  on 
the  sofa  apparently  asleep. 

Then  she  dropped  her  work  and  turned  to  greet 
the  newcomer. 

*'  No,  thank  you,  I  can't  sit  down,"  he  said.  "  I 
came  to  bring  you  some  money  that  Mr.  Warner 
handed  me  for  your  poor  people.  Here  it  is,"  and 
taking  out  his  pocket- oook  he  handed  her  a  check. 
**  You'd  better  spend  some  of  it  on  that  little  mud- 
lark of  yours,"  with  a  nod  of  his  head  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  sofa. 

Zeb,  who  was  only  pretending  to  be  asleep,  heard 
the  half-contemptuous  half-good-natured  epithet, 
and  like  a  flash  she  was  off  the  sofa  and  clinging  to 
his  arm,  scratching,  snarling,  and  biting  at  him  like 
an  enraged  cat. 

Stargarde  was  intensely  distressed,  and  Dr.  Cam- 

152 


THE   STOLEN    POCKET-BOOK 


153 


perdown  was  electrified.  Around  and  around  the 
table  he  went,  trying  to  shake  the  child  off  without 
hurting  her,  and  yet  becoming  more  and  more  dis- 
turbed as  he  heard  the  ripping  of  cloth. 

"Stop,  stop — ^you  little  fury,"  he  exclaimed. 
"  Let  go  !  I'll  have  to  hurt  you,  I  sec,"  and  bending 
back  the  child's  fingers  in  his  powerful  hands  he 
dropped  her  on  the  floor  gently,  but  as  hastily  as  if 
she  were  a  rat,  and  snatching  at  his  hat  hurried  to 
the  door. 

He  flung  it  open  and  rushed  out,  none  too  soon, 
however,  for  the  child  was  at  his  heels.  Acro««^  the 
veranda  and  out  under  the  archway  they  dashed, 
and  Stargarde,  hastening  to  watch  them,  heard  their 
hurrying  footsteps  echoing  down  the  frosty  street. 
Used  to  surprising  scenes  of  all  kinds  she  was  not 
unduly  alarmed,  and  thoughtfully  smoothing  out 
the  check  and  murmuring,  "  Poor  little  Zeb,"  she 
sat  down  to  write  a  note  of  thanks. 

After  some  time  there  was  a  cautious  knock  at 
the  door,  then  a  head  was  thrust  slowly  in,  which, 
to  her  surprise,  she  saw  belonged  to  Dr.  Camper- 
down. 

"Are  you  alone?"  he  said.  "Has  that — that 
little  witch  come  back  ?  If  she  has  I  won't  come 
in." 

"No,  she  hasn't" 

Camperdown  advanced  into  the  room  making  a 
wry  face.     "  I  have  been  robbed." 


fl!    I 


,!  S I 


■t'i 


154 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"Brian!" 

"  Yes  ;  that  small  darling  of  yours  has  made  off 
with  my  pocket-book." 

"  Impossible,  Brian  !"  exclaimed  Stargarde  clasp- 
ing her  hands. 

"Not  so,"  he  retorted  coolly.  "She  has  it.  I 
was  on  my  way  to  the  police  station,  but  changed 
my  mind  and  thought  I'd  come  here  first." 

"  Brian,  I  cannot  have  her  arrested." 

"Very  well ;  then  get  my  property  from  her. 
There  are  papers  in  that  book  worth  a  large  sum 
to  me.  I've  traveled  half  over  the  world  and  car- 
ried a  pocket  full  of  notes  here,  there,  and  every- 
where, and  never  was  robbed  before." 

Stargarde  suddenly  became  calm.  "Sit  down 
and  let  us  talk  it  over." 

He  gave  utterance  to  his  favorite  exclamation, 
"  Good — there's  considerable  of  the  detective  about 
you,  Stargarde,  and  you've  had  experience  with 
people  of  this  stripe.     Now  what  shall  we  do?" 

She  smiled  feebly  at  him.  "Where  did  you  keep 
your  pocket-book,  Brian  ?  " 

He  displayed  a  well  of  a  pocket  in  his  inside  coat 
situated  immediately  over  his  brawny  chest.  "Irh- 
possible  to  fall  out  you  see.     Put  your  hrnd    a." 

"  Oh,  I  can  see  ;  do  you  always  kee^         acre  ?  " 

"Always." 

"  When  did  you  have  it  last  ?  " 

"  When  I  took  it  out  to  give  you  the  check.     I 


I 


'J 


r 


THE   STOLEN    POCKET-BOOK 


155 


I 


had  the  book  half-way  back  into  my  pocket  when 
the  young  lamb  sprang  upon  me.  You  remember 
how  she  grabbed  and  dived  at  me — wanted  to 
tear  her  way  to  my  heart,  I  think.  Probably  she 
snatched  the  book  and  concealed  it  among  her  rags." 

She  had  no  rags  to  conceal  it  among,"  said  Star- 
garde  reproachfully;  "she  had  on  a  decent  frock." 

"Well,  what  is  your  theory?"  he  said  impa- 
tiently. 

"  She  was  angry  and  thought  only  of  punishing 
you.  The  book  must  have  fallen  from  your  coat 
as  you  ran  and  she  picked  it  up  and  is  keeping  it 
to  tease  you." 

"  I  will  tease  her,"  grimly,  "  if  she  doesn't  give  it 
up.    Come,  what  shall  we  do?     Get  a  policeman?" 

"  No,  Brian,  I  will  get  it  for  you,"  and  she  left 
him  and  went  into  her  bedroom  and  put  her  hand 
to  her  head  with  a  swift  ejaculation,  "  O  Lord,  give 
me  wisdom.  They  are  terrible  people — her  par- 
ents. If  they  find  the  book  on  her  they  will  not 
give  it  up." 

She  looked  around  the  room  as  if  for  inspiration. 
"I  have  it,"  she  said,  snatching  a  little  box  from 
her  dressing  table.  **  Thank  God  for  putting  it  into 
the  hearts  of  kind  friends  to  send  me  the  where- 
withal to  do  good."  Then  taking  a  hat  and  cloak 
from  a  drawer,  and  rolling  Zeb's  cap  and  shawl  in  a 
parcel,  she  went  out  to  Dr.  Camperdown  and  said 
quietly,  "  I  am  ready." 


^'  t' 


',U 


156 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


He  held  open  the  door  for  her,  and  looked  down 
approvingly  at  the  large  black  dog  that  went  silently 
out  with  his  nose  against  her  skirts. 

They  went  up  a  street  leading  to  the  Citadel 
Hill,  which  crouched  in  the  midst  of  the  city  like 
some  huge  animal  turned  stiff  in  the  cold,  its  f1ank£> 
covered  with  yellow,  tufted,  frozen  grass,  the  great 
crown  of  the  fort  resting  solidly  on  its  brow.  A  few 
lights  flashed  at  the  top  of  the  signal  staff,  but  the 
grim  fortification  sunk  in  the  ground  was  outwardly 
dark  and  gloomy,  though  within  they  kr  2W  there 
were  lights  and  fires  and  soldiers  keeping  ceaseless 
watch. 

Near  the  Citadel  was  a  tenement  house,  inhabited 
by  nearly  tvv^enty  persons.  Stargarde  knew  them 
all,  knew  just  which  rooms  they  occupied,  and  on 
arriving  in  front  of  the  building,  she  refused  to 
allow  Camperdown  to  accompany  her  within. 

Very  unwillingly  he  consented  to  stay  outside,  a 
little  comforted  to  see  that  the  dog  slunk  in  after 
her  like  her  shadow.  Stargarde  had  requested  him 
not  to  linger  by  the  door,  so  he  walked  up  and 
down  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  where  there 
were  no  houses,  surveying  moodily  sometimes  the 
frozen  glacis  on  one  side  of  him,  and  sometimes 
the  gaudy  windows  of  the  little  eating  and  drink- 
ing shops  on  the  other.  A  few  soldiers  in  great- 
coats passed  at  intervals  up  and  down  the  street, 
but  always  across  from  him,  and  occasionally  a  man 


THE   STOLEN    POCKET-BOOK 


157 


or  a  gayly  dressed  girl  would  swing  open  a  shop 
door  and  let  a  stream  of  music  and  a  smell  of  cook- 
ing food  out  on  the  night  air. 

While  he  waited,  he  mourned  angrily  and  bit- 
terly, as  he  had  done  a  thousand  times  before,  the 
passion,  or  credulity,  or  madness,  or  whatever  it  was^ 
that  took  his  pure,  white  lily  into  such  houses  as 
these.  "Those  people  are  well  enough  off,"  he 
muttered  angrily  ;  "why  can't  she  let  them  alone? 
They  live  their  life,  we  live  ours.  She  thinks  she 
can  raise  them  up.  Pah !  as  easily  as  rats  from  a 
gutter." 

He  grumbled  on  mercifully  unconscious  of  the 
fact  that  could  he  have  seen  Stargardc  at  the  time 
his  uneasiness  would  not  have  been  allayed. 

The  old  tenement  house  was  one  of  the  worst  in 
the  city,  and  when  Stargarde  entered  it,  she  knew 
she  must  step  cautiously.  Passing  through  the 
doorway  she  found  herself  in  a  narrow,  unlighted 
hall,  not  evil-smelling,  for  the  door  had  been  partly 
ajar,  but  as  cold  as  the  outer  world,  and  with  an 
uneven  floorway,  almost  covered  by  an  accumula- 
tion of  ice  and  snow  brought  in  during  many  days 
by  many  feet,  and  that  would  linger  till  a  thaw 
came  to  melt  it 

At  the  back  of  the  hall  was  a  sound  of  running 
water,  where  the  occupants  of  the  house,  with  a 
glorious  disregard  of  the  waste,  kept  their  tap  run- 
ning to  save  it  from  freezing.     Beyond  the  tap  Star- 


(■:       ': 


^  . 


i 


ill 


I 


158 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


garde  knew  she  must  not  go,  for  there  was  a  large 
hole  in  the  floor  utilized  as  a  receptacle  for  the  ref- 
use and  garbage  of  the  house,  which  were  thrown 
through  it  into  the  cellar.  As  for  the  cellar  itself, 
it  was  entirely  open  to  the  winter  winds.  The  win- 
dows had  been  torn  away,  part  of  the  foundation 
wall  was  crumbling,  and  over  the  rickety  floor  she 
could  hear  the  rats  scampering  merrily,  busy  with 
their  evening  feast 

Stargarde  avoided  the  icy  sink,  the  running  water, 
and  the  crazy  steps  that  led  to  the  cellar,  and  guid- 
ing herself  along  the  hall  by  touching  the  wall  with 
the  tips  of  her  outstretched  fingers,  put  her  foot 
on  the  lowest  step  of  the  staircase.  Carefully  she 
crept  up  one  flight  of  stairs  after  another,  past  walls 
flecked  with  ugly  sores,  where  the  plaster  had  fallen 
ofl*  in  patches,  past  empty  sockets  of  windows  star- 
ing out  at  the  night  with  glass  and  sash  both  gone, 
and  past  the  snowdrifts  lying  curled  beneath  on 
the  floor. 

On  two  flats  she  passed  by  doors  where  threads 
of  light  streamed  out  and  lay  across  the  rotten 
boards,  while  a  sound  of  laughter  and  rough  merry- 
making was  heard  within. 

In  the  third,  the  top  flat,  there  was  no  noise 
at  all.  "  Foreigners  they  are,  and  queer  in  their 
ways,"  ejaculated  Stargarde  ;  and  pausing  an  instant 
to  listen  for  some  sign  of  life,  she  lifted  up  her  face 
to  the  crazy,  moldy  roof  overhead,  where  some  of 


2*1 


\-\i 


i' 


THE   STOLEN    POCKET-BOOK 


159 


the  shingles  were  gone,  affording  easy  ingress  to 
snow  and  rain,  which  kept  the  floor  beneath  her  feet 
in  a  state  of  perpetual  dampness. 

"Iniquitous!"  she  murmured;  "judgment  falls 
on  the  city  that  neglects  its  poor."  Then  bringing 
down  her  glance  to  the  doors  before  her,  she  sighed 
heavily  and  proceeded  a  little  farther  along  the  hall. 
There  were  three  rooms  in  this  story,  nnd  Zeb's 
parents  lived  in  the  front  one.  Their  door  had 
been  broken  in  some  quarrel  between  the  people 
of  the  house,  and  one  whole  panel  was  gone. 
There  was  a  garment  clumsily  tacked  over  it,  and 
Stargarde  might  have  pulled  it  aside  if  she  had  been 
so  minded  ;  but  she  had  not  come  to  spy  upon  her 
proteges,  and  contented  herselfwith  knocking  gently. 

The  very  slight,  almost  inaudible,  sound  of  voices 
that  she  had  been  able  to  hear  within  the  room  in- 
stantly ceased  ;  after  a  short  interval  a  voice  asked 
her  in  excellent  English  who  she  was  and  what  she 
wanted. 

"  Miss  Turner,"  she  replied  good-humoredl}-, 
"  and  I  should  like  to  see  Zeb  for  a  few  minutes." 

The  door  was  opened  part  way,  and  she  was  sul- 
lenly motioned  to  enter  by  a  tall  woman,  who  slipped 
behind  it  so  as  to  be  partly  unobserved,  giving  her 
visitor  as  she  did  so  a  look  which  certainly  would 
have  attracted  Stargarde's  attention  could  she  have 
seen  it,  so  blended  with  a  curious  variety  of  emo- 
tions was  it 


f 


1 60 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


i    ':\\ 


it       I 


They  were  having  a  quiet  carousal  Stargarde  saw, 
when  she  found  herself  in  the  room.  There  was 
a  tearing  fire  in  the  stove,  and  on  its  red-hot  top 
foamed  and  bubbled  a  kettle  of  boiling  water.  The 
windows  were  tightly  closed  and  draped  with  dirty 
garments ;  a  small  table,  having  on  it  candles,  a  pack 
of  cards,  and  a  jug  of  steaming  liquor,  stood  at  one 
side  of  the  room,  and  beside  it  sat  two  men,  both 
foreigners,  judging  by  their  swarthy  faces  and  plen- 
tiful supply  of  silky,  black  hair. 

They  were  very  drunk,  but  the  woman  was  only 
partly  so.  The  men  eyed  Stargarde  in  insulting, 
brutish  curiosity,  hurling  interjections,  remarks,  and 
questions  at  her  in  a  gibberish  which  she  fortunately 
could  not  understand. 

She  paid  little  attention  to  them.  Her  eyes  leaped 
beyond  to  the  dirty  bed  on  the  floor,  and  held  a  pair 
of  glittering  orbs  that  she  knew  belonged  to  the  child 
of  whom  she  had  come  in  search.  She  did  not  wish 
Zeb  to  have  one  instant  to  herself  in  which  to  se- 
crete the  pocket-book.  The  child  had  pulled  about 
her  some  of  the  rags  with  which  she  was  sur- 
rounded, and  was  sitting  up,  looking  like  a  wild 
animal  disturbed  in  its  lair. 

Stargarde  crossed  the  room  quickly  and  knelt 
down  beside  her.  "You  ran  away  from  me  this 
evening,"  she  whispered  ;  "see,  darling,"  and  open- 
ing a  box  she  showed  the  child  a  layer  of  sweet- 
meats daintily  wrapped  in  colored  paper. 


THE   STOLEN    POCKET-BOOK 


l6l 


"Take  one,  Zeb,"  she  said,  and  the  child  silently 
submitted  to  have  one  put  in  her  mouth.  •'  Now  I 
must  go,"  said  Stargard- ;  "you  keep  this  pretty 
box,  and  will  you  come  and  see  me  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  Mebbe,"  said  the  child  sullenly,  and  taking 
another  sweetmeat. 

Stargarde's  heart  beat  fast.  The  girl  was  an 
enigma  to  her  in  her  moody  self-possession.  Per- 
haps she  had  not  taken  the  pocket-book.  "  Good- 
bye, Zeb,"  she  murmured,  making  as  though  she 
would  rise  from  the  floor.  "  Have  you  no  present 
for  me?     I  thought  you  might  have." 

Zeb  flashed  her  a  look,  half  cunning,  half  admir- 
ing. "You're  a  quaint  one,"  she  observed  in  Ital- 
ian patois ;  then  she  displayed  her  sharp,  white 
teeth  in  a  mirthless  smile  :  "  If  you'll  give  me  a 
kiss." 

Stargarde  leaned  over  and  took  the  child  in  a 
capacious  embrace,  and  as  she  did  so,  felt  some- 
thing flat  slipped  into  the  bosom  of  her  dress.  "  Is 
it  all  there?"  she  murmured  in  Zeb's  ear;  "you 
haven't  taken  anything  out?" 

''Pas  si  b^te;'  returned  the  child.  "Not  I. 
Think  I  want  to  cool  my  heels  in  the  little  saint  ? 
I  was  goin'  to  fetch  it  in  the  mornin'  ;  but  you  take 
the  curlyhead  back  his  sacred.  I  don't  want  it. 
It  danced  out  of  his  pocket.     Some  day,"  coolly, 

"  I'll  pick  him.    He's  a I'd  like  to  see  his  grape 

jam  running,"  with  an  oath  and  sudden  darkening 

L 


111 


i;- 


i-'Vt 


■I 


ll^ 


162 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


of  face.  Stargarde  was  familiar  with  some  of  the 
slang  of  recidivists  collected  together  in  large  cities, 
but  she  had  never  before  the  advent  of  Zeb's  parents 
heard  it  in  the  small  city  of  Halifax.  With  a  sen- 
sation of  poignant  and  intense  grief  she  looked  at 
the  child  who,  whether  it  was  due  to  her  environ- 
ment or  not,  was  talking  more  of  it  this  evening 
than  she  had  ever  heard  from  her  before. 

"Curlyhead,"  Stargarde  knew,  meant  Jew;  "lit- 
tle saint,"  prison;  "sacred,"  purse;  and  "grape 
jam  "  was  blood.  Oh,  to  get  the  child  away  from 
here,  from  the  choking,  stifling  atmosphere  of  pov- 
erty and  vice  that  was  ruining  her ! 

Zeb,  as  if  aware  of  her  distress,  had  curled  her- 
self up  sullenly  among  the  rags,  and  Stargarde  rose 
to  her  feet  and  turned  to  speak  to  her  mother. 

In  a  corner  of  the  room  she  found  an  extraordi- 
nary scene  being  enacted.  Unknown  to  her,  while 
she  bent  over  Zeb,  the  younger  of  the  two  men 
had  managed  to  stagger  quietly  from  his  seat  and 
stand  behind  her,  divided  between  an  admiration 
for  her  magnificent  physique,  such  a  contrast  to  his 
own  puny  strength,  and  an  endeavor  to  keep  on  his 
tottering  legs. 

The  gravely  watchful  dog  that  had  walked  into 
the  room  behind  his  mistress,  and  lay  curled  on  the 
floor  beside  her,  saw  nothing  hostile  in  the  man's 
attitude,  and  beyond  keeping  an  observing  eye 
upon  him  took  no  measures  to  make  him  retreat. 


THE  STOLEN    POCKET-BOOK 


163 


Not  so  sensible  was  the  woman  behind  the  door. 
For  some  reason  or  other  she  was  highly  displeased 
with  the  proceeding  of  the  young  man.  Springing 
upon  him  as  silently  and  as  stealthily  as  a  wild 
beast  of  the  cat  tribe  would  have  done,  she  hissed 
in  his  ear,  **  Not  for  you  to  look  at,  Camaro  ;  back  ! 
back  !"  and  she  motioned  him  to  his  seat. 

He  had  reached  the  obstinate  stage  of  drunk- 
enness, and  though  a  little  fear  of  her  shone  out  of 
his  black  and  beady  eyes,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders 
carelessly,  and  said  in  Italian,  "  Presently,  presently, 
my  lady." 

"  Not  presently,  but  now,"  said  the  woman  in 
pure  and  correct  English,  and  having  taken  enough 
of  the  fiery  liquor  to  be  thoroughly  quarrelsome, 
she  threw  herself  upon  him,  dragged  him  to  a  cor- 
ner where,  when  Stargarde  turned  around,  she  was 
quietly  and  persistently  beating  him  with  a  stick  of 
wood  that  she  had  caught  from  beside  the  stove. 

Her  husband  sat  stupidly  watching  her  from  the 
table,  his  hand  going  more  and  more  frequently  to 
the  jug ;  and  her  victim,  making  not  the  slightest 
effort  to  withstand  her,  lay  taking  his  beating  as  a 
submissive  child  might  resign  itself  to  deserved  pun- 
.  ishment  from  a  parent. 

"Stop,  stop  !"  exclaimed  Stargarde,  hurrying  to 
her  side.  "That's  enough,  Zeb's  mother" — and 
throwing  her  cloak  back  over  her  shoulders  she  laid 
her  hand  on  the  woman's  club. 


8 


Hi: 


'.I'd 


I- 


It  .- 


II 


yi 


I     i 


lid,; 


If 

If  3' 

I' 

:(  ' 
3i  < 


164 


THE    HOUSE    OF    ARMOUR 


"  He  insulted  you,"  exclaimed  the  woman  in 
maudlin  fury,  "  I  shall  punish  him." 

Stargarde  towered  above  her,  strong  and  firm 
and  beautiful,  and  would  not  release  her.  "Who 
are  you  ?  "  she  said  in  surprise.  "  You  speak  Italian 
and  French,  and  now  good  English  ;  I  thought  you 
were  Zeb's  mother." 

"So  I  be,"  said  the  woman  sulkily,  relapsing 
into  inelegant  language,  and  pulling  her  hair  over 
her  eyes  so  that  Stargarde  could  not  see  her  fea- 
tures distinctly.  *'  Here,  give  me  that  stick,"  and 
seeing  that  Stargarde  would  not  obey  her,  she 
began  beating  the  man  with  her  fists. 

"  Oh,  this  is  dreadful,"  gasped  Stargarde,  holding 
her  back  and  gazing  around  the  room,  half  choked 
by  the  heat,  which  was  bringing  out  and  developing 
a  dozen  different  odors,  each  fouler  than  the  last. 
"How  can  I  leave  Zeb  here?  Give  me  the  child, 
won't  you  ?  "  she  said  pleadingly  to  the  woman. 

"  No,  no,"  and  a  stream  of  foreign  ejaculations 
^nd  asseverations  poured  from  the  woman's  lips,  in 
which  the  man  at  the  table,  comprehending  dully 
what  was  said,  hastened  to  add  his  quota. 

Stargarde  turned  to  look  at  him,  and  found  that 
he  was  fondling  tenderly  a  little  monkey  that  had 
crept  to  his  bosom.  She  remembered  hearing  Zeb 
say  that  her  father  loved  his  monkey  and  would 
feed  it  if  they  all  had  to  go  hungry. 

"Sweet,   Pedro,   thou    art   beautiful,"   he    mur- 


i* 


11  i 


THE   STOLEN    POCKET-BOOK 


165 


dully 


mur- 


mured, and  Stargarde  seeing  that  he  cared  nothing 
for  the  friend  whom  his  wife  was  so  unmercifully 
beating,  knew  that  she  must  not  relax  in  her  pro- 
tection of  the  unfortunate  one,  or  there  might  be 
broken  bones,  and  possibly  loss  of  life  before  morn- 
ing. 

"You  were  kind  to  want  to  protect  me,"  she 
said,  catching  the  woman's  wrists  in  her  hands  and 
holding  them  firmly ;  "but  you  should  not  beat  the 
man.  He  would  not  have  hurt  me.  I  am  never 
afraid  of  drunken  people.  See,  I  will  take  him 
away  from  you,"  and  sliding  her  hand  under  the 
little  man's  shirt  collar  she  slipped  him  swiftly  over 
the  floor  to  the  doorway.  Strong  and  muscular, 
and  a  trained  athlete  though  she  was  a  woman,  she 
did  easily  in  cool  blood  what  the  other  woman  had 
only  been  able  to  do  in  her  rage. 

Zeb's  mother  precipitating  herself  upon  her,  hin- 
dered her  from  opening  the  door,  till  Zeb  sprang 
from  the  bed  and  addressed  her  unreasoning  parent 
in  an  eager  jargon,  in  which  Stargarde  knew  she 
plainly  told  her  of  the  evil  consequences  which 
would  arise  from  the  indulgence  of  her  wrath. 

The  woman,  not  too  far  gone  to  be  amenable  to 
reason,  came  so  quickly  to  her  daughter's  view  of 
the  matter  that  she  even  gave  the  now  insensible 
man  several  helping  kicks  to  assist  Stargarde  in 
dragging  him  out  into  the  hall.  Stargarde  going 
ahead,  slid  him  down  the  few  steps  to  the  next  land- 


w 


1:1   ' 


"  ( 


\  t:. 


ft  t 


1 66 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


ing,  where  she  laid  his  head  on  a  bed  of  snow,  and 
bound  her  handkerchief  around  an  ugly  cut  on  his 
wrist. 

Before  she  finished,  the  woman  exclaimed  at  the 
cold  wind  sweeping  through  the  hall,  and  went 
into  the  room  ;  but  Zeb  remained,  watching  and 
shivering,  though  she  had  on  all  the  clodies  she 
had  worn  through  the  day. 

"Zeb,"  exclaimed  Stargarde  passionately,  look- 
ing up  at  her,  "  how  can  I  leave  you  here  ?  I  shall 
not  sleep  to-night  for  thinking  of  you." 

The  child  shrugged  her  shoulders,  but  said  noth- 
ing. 

"Will  you  not  come  with  me,  darling?"  said 
Stargarde.  "  I  think  your  mother  would  give  you 
up. 

"  Yer'U  marry  that "  Zeb  scorned  to  bestow 

a  name  upon  him  ;  "  then  where'll  I  find  myself?  " 

"  My  present  plan  is  to  live  always  in  the  Pavil- 
ion," said  Stargarde  firmly  ;  "  and  Zeb,  I  want  you 
with  me." 

Zeb  relented  a  little.  "I'll  see  yer  to-morrer," 
she  observed  at  length.  "  I'm  tired  o'  this  kind  o' 
thing,"  pointing  contemptuously  at  the  prostrate 
man. 

"And  Zeb,"  continued  Stargarde,  as  the  girl 
showed  signs  of  leaving  her,  "  do  open  a  window 
in  there  ;  the  air  is  stifling." 

Zeb  chuckled.     "So  I  does,  every  night.     In  an 


M 


THE   STOLEN    POCKET-BOOK 


167 


hour  them,"  with  a  jerk  of  her  finger  over  her 
shoulder,  "  will  be  sound  ofif  Then  I  jumps  up  and 
opens  both  winders,  'cause  I  likes  fresh  air.  Good- 
night to  ye,"  and  with  a  farewell  glance  at  Star- 
garde  she  slammed  the  crazy  door  behind  her  and 
went  into  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XV 


A   LOST   MOTHER 


1  f  ■ 


m. 


.^M 


hi. 


m 


STARGARDE,  lifting  up  her  eyes  and  seeing 
that  she  was  alone,  hurried  down  the  steps 
to  the  next  floor,  to  a  room  belonging  to  a  boys' 
club. 

"  Password,"  muttered  a  sepulchral  voice  when 
she  tapped  lightly  on  the  door  panels. 

"Good  boys,"  she  returned  with  a  laugh.  It 
was  not  the  password.  *•  Death  to  the  traitor,"  was 
the  signal  for  the  night ;  .but  they  knew  her  voice, 
and  a  boy  opened  the  door  and  slipped  out. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mike?"  she  said  cheerfully; 
"can't  you  let  me  in?"  He  hesitated  and  she 
went  on,  "  I  want  to  see  how  your  club  room 
looks.  Don't  you  want  a  new  stove,  and  some 
chairs  and  pictures  ?  I  know  where  you  could  get 
some,  if  you  do." 

The  boy's  pale  face  brightened.  "  Hold  on," 
he  ejaculated  ;  "  I'll  tell  'em." 

He    insinuated    himself    back    into    the    room 

through  the  very  narrowest  possible  space  ;  there 

was  a  sound  of  shuffling  of  furniture,  and  quickly 

moving  feet,   then  he   told   her  she   might  enter. 

i68 


A    LOST    MOTHER 


169 


The  atmosphere  of  the  room  was  thick  with  smoke  ; 
they  could  not  clear  that  away,  though  a  window 
had  been  hastily  opened,  and  the  pure,  cold  air 
streamed  in  through  the  dusky  atmosphere. 

Boys*  heads  shone  out  of  the  cloud — not  big 
boys,  but  half-grown  ones,  boys  who  drove  small 
coal  carts  about  the  city — all  noticeable  by  their 
universal  blackness  of  hair  and  whiteness  of  faces 
recently  washed.  There  was  a  good  fire  in  the 
stove  ;  poor  people  will  go  hungry  before  they  will 
go  cold,  she  knew  that.  Of  books,  games,  any- 
thing to  amuse  the  lads,  she  saw  nothing.  A  few 
empty  boxes  for  seats  were  set  about  the  stove. 
On  one  of  them  a  forgotten  knave  of  clubs  lay  on 
his  back  ruefully  staring  in  the  direction  his  fellows 
had  gone,  marked  by  a  suspicious  bulge  in  the 
pocket  of  one  of  the  oldest  lads  present. 

"Good-evening,  Harry,  Jim,  Joe,  Will,"  said 
Stargarde,  nodding  gayly,  and  mentioning  all  of 
the  boys  in  the  room  by  name.  "  What  about  the 
act  respecting  the  use  of  tobacco  by  minors  ?  "  and 
she  began  to  quote  in  a  lugubrious  tone  of  voice, 
"  'Any  person  who  either  directly  or  indirectly  sells 
or  gives  or  furnishes  to  a  minor  under  eighteen 
years  of  age,  cigarettes,  cigars,  or  tobacco  in  any 
form,  shall  in  summary  conviction  thereof  be  sub- 
ject to  a  penalty  of  not  less  than  ten  dollars.'  "  She 
broke  off  there,  for  the  boys  were  all  smiling  at 
her. 


; » 


I 


Im 


)i 


,  t 


t  < 


■;.' 


*!        i 
Jt        f 


170 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"Aren't  you  glad  I'm  not  a  policeman?"  she 
said.  "  Come  now,  boys,  let  us  make  a  bargain. 
Pipes  in  the  fire,  and  I'll  furnish  the  room.  I  was 
just  speaking  to  Mike  about  it." 

The  president,  a  lad  rather  more  respectably 
dressed  than  the  others,  stepped  forward.  "Will 
you  give  us  your  terms  in  writing?  "  he  said. 

Stargarde  smiled.  "Too  much  rcd-tapeism," 
laying  her  hand  on  his  shoulder.  "  You  all  hear, 
boys;  I'll  make  this  the  nicest  boys*  club  in  Hali- 
fax if  you'll  throw  away  your  tobacco,  pipes,  cigars, 
etc." 

"For  how  long?"  asked  the  president  cau- 
tiously. 

"Say  for  a  year.  Then  if  you're  not  healthier, 
happier  boys,  I'll  be  greatly  mistaken.  Try  it  for 
a  year,  and  if  you  are  worse  off  without  tobacco 
than  with  it,  go  back  to  it  by  all  means." 

"  A  year  isn't  long,"  he  replied,  turning  to  his  as- 
sociates.     "What  is  the  opinion  of  the  club?" 

"  Hurrah  for  Miss  Turner  !  '  said  a  lad,  pressing 
forward  enthusiastically. 

"  Make  me  an  honorary  member,  Mike,"  said 
Stargarde  so  quickly  in  the  ear  of  the  boy  who  let 
her  in  that  he  thought  it  was  his  own  suggestion, 
and  immediately  proposed  her.  There  was  a  show 
of  hands,  and  the  thing  was  done. 

Stargarde  thanked  thcni,  promised  a  supply  of 
books  and  papers,  then  .said  earnestly  :   "There's  a 


,'!t 


t:m.SliiMi 


A   LOST    MOTHER 


171 


little  matter  I  wish  to  mention,  boys.  In  the  hall 
out  here  lies  a  man  with  some  bruises  that  want  at- 
tending to.  Can  some  of  you  look  after  him  for  a 
few  days?  Keep  him  here  and  come  to  me  for 
whatever  you  want,  and  take  good  care  of  him,  for 
he's  a  friend  of  mine." 

She  had  scarcely  finished  when  two  lads  were 
detailed  for  duty  and  were  stealing  up  the  steps. 
Her  friends  were  prccty  well  known,  and  when  she 
had  one  in  tiouble,  others  of  her  friends  were  always 
willing  to  assist  her. 

When  the  boys  found  that  the  man  was  a  for- 
eigner and  unknown  to  them,  they  were  filled  with 
an  important  sense  of  mystery.  A  course  of  blood- 
and-thunder  novel  reading  had  prepared  them  for 
just  such  an  event  as  this,  and  for  some  days  they 
took  turns  in  guarding  the  unfortunate  man,  who 
had  received  even  a  worse  pounding  than  Stargardc 
had  imagined,  nursing  him  secretly,  and  feasting 
him  on  the  daintiest  morsels  that  the  Pavilion  res- 
taurant afforded. 

''  Oh,  how  good  the  poor  are  to  each  other  ;  how 
good  they  are  ! "  murmured  Stargarde,  as  she  lan- 
guidly descended  from  the  club  room  and  rejoined 
her  patient  lover.  "Yes,  I  am  tired,  Brian,"  she 
said  wearily,  as  she  slipned  her  hand  through  his 
arm  ;  "  tired,  bet  not  with  bodily  fatigue.  I  am 
tired  of  the  temptations  to  sin.  It  seems  as  if  the 
Evil  One  is  perpetually  casting  a  net  about  our 


Hir 

WW; 

'B  f' 

W<  t ' 

I'-' 

-  s '  .i'^ 

F      '• 

1 

|k 

1.; 

1 

r  i 
1 

'|i    ! 

^  i|^»  ^  i 

''ii  ' 

:jfi '  1 

hi 

;.  ;^:m      ; 

-f# 

-BhiOkl 

'  I  ;    . 


172 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


feet.  No  one  is  exempt.  But  the  poor !  oh,  the 
poor !  it  is  hardest  for  them.  How  can  they  be 
good  when  they  are  ground  down  by  the  perpetual 
struggle  for  bread  in  miserable  surroundings,  and 
worse  tiian  that,  worse  than  that,"  and  her  voice 
sank  to  a  low  wail,  "  the  temptation  that  is  always 
before  them — nay,  forced  upon  them — to  drink 
deep  and  forget  their  misery." 

They  were  passing  the  old  Clock  Tower,  situ- 
ated on  the  Citadel  Hill.  Camperdown  looked  up 
at  its  impenetrable  face.  "Sin  and  misery  have 
been  In  the  world  ever  since  it  began,"  he  said 
hopelessly  ;  "always  will  be  till  it  ends." 

"  Ah,  but  what  a  grand  thing  to  put  a  stop  to  a 
little  of  the  sin  and  iniquity  !"  exclaimed  the  woman, 
turning  up  to  the  stars  her  bright  and  eager  face. 
"That  is  one's  only  consolation." 

"  I  wish  you  would  not  walk  along  the  street 
with  your  face  turned  up  in  that  way,"  was  Cam- 
perdown's  unexpected  and  jealous  reply.  They 
liadjust  passed  two  soldiers  who  stared  curiously  at 
the  beautiful  woman  on  his  arm,  and  just  as  he 
spoke  a  girl  standing  in  a  near  doorway  with  an 
apron  flung  over  her  head  made  a  saucy  remark 
with  regard  to  Stargarde  to  a  broad-shouldered 
workman  standing  by  her. 

"Hist,"  .said  the  man  angrily;  "you're  ntvv 
here,  or  you'd  know  who  that  is,"  and  he  took  off 
his  cap  as  Stargarde  passed  by.      "There's  hands 


A    LOST    MOTHER 


173 


.am- 


as'll  be  raised  to  slap  your  mouth,  woman  as  you 
be,"  he  continued  half  apologetically  to  the  girl  as 
the  two  people  went  by,  **  if  you  dares  to  pass  a 
word  agin  her.  She's  the  poor  man's  friend.  She's 
always  with  *em,  sick  an'  dyin'  and  dead.     She  put 

my  old  mother  in  a  handsome  coffin "  and  he 

broke  off  abruptly. 

Camperdown  and  Stargarde  were  walking  slowly 
so  that  they  heard  every  word  that  had  been  said. 
**  Brian,"  she  said  passionately,  "do  you  hear  that? 
and  can  you  still  want  me  to  live  only  for  pleasure 
and  society  ?  Oh,  how  dare  you  ?  how  can  you  ? 
Shame  to  you,  Brian  !"  and  the  very  stars  seemed  to 
have  got  tangled  in  the  glitter  and  radiance  and 
unearthly  beauty  of  the  eyes  that  she  turned  upon 
him. 

He  looked  at  her,  growled  something  in  a  low, 
happy  voice  that  she  could  not  hear,  then  said 
dryly,  "  Hadn't  you  better  give  me  my  pocket- 
book?" 

She  stopped  short.  '*  How  stupid  I  am  ;  pray 
forgive  me.  Here  it  is,"  and  she  handed  it  to  him. 
"  How  did  you  know  that  I  had  it?" 

"By  your  face,"  he  said  shortly. 

"  I  wonder  who  Zeb's  mother  is  ? "  said  Star- 
garde,  as  they  walked  slowly  on.  "  She  talks  like 
a  lady  at  times.  I  must  find  out.  There's  a  mys- 
tery about  them  that  1  can't  fathom.  They've  been 
dwellers  in  big  cities.     They're  not  like  our  poor 


Ill  -■ 


■ '.  i 


1 ,1 


"i\' 


I  ■ 

I  i 

m 


*?  A 


THE    HOUSE   OF    ARMOUR 


people,  Brian.     I  wonder  ;  I  wonder "  and  still 

wondering  she  arrived  at  her  own  doorway. 

"You're  crying!"  exclaimed  Camperdown,  when 
he  put  out  his  hand  to  say  good-bye  to  her. 
"What's  the  matter?" 

"  I  am  thinking  about  my  mother,"  she  replied 
in  a  low,  distressed  voice.  "  Is  it  not  strange,  I  rian, 
that  I  hear  nothing  of  her?  From  the  day  that  I 
heard  I  had  a  mother  till  now,  I  have  searched  for 
her.  Yet  I  can  hear  nothing  from  her ;  neither  can 
any  one  that  I  employ." 

Her  voice  failed,  and  with  a  heavy  sob  she 
dropped  her  head  on  her  breast. 

Camperdown  looked  at  her  in  obvious  distress. 
She  so  seldom  gave  way  ;  he  could  see  that  she  was 
suffering  extremely.  "  Don't  cry,  Stargarde  ;  don't 
cry,"  he  said  uneasily.  "  It  will  all  come  out  right. 
We  may  find  her  yet." 

"I  am  a  coward,"  said  the  woman,  suddenly  lift- 
ing her  moist,  beautiful  eyes  to  his  face  ;  "  but 
sometimes  I  can't  help  it,  Brian  ;  it  overcomes  me. 
I  never  sit  by  a  sick-bed,  I  never  kneel  by  a  dying 
person  without  thinking  of  her.  Where  is  she?  Is 
there  some  one  to  care  for  her?  Perhaps  she  is 
cold  and  hungry  and  ill.  Her  body  may  be  suffer- 
ing, and  her  soul  too,  her  immortal  soul.  Oh,  that 
is  what  distresses  me.  She  was  not  doing  right — 
we  know  that." 

"There  is  one  thing  I  know,"  he  said  decidedly. 


jii 


A    LOST    MOTHER 


i;5 


"  and  that  is  that  you'll  do  no  work  to-morrow  if  you 
spend  the  night  in  fretting  over  what  can't  be 
helped.  Come,  take  some  of  your  own  medicine. 
The  Lord  knows  what  is  best  for  you  ;  go  on  with 
what  you  have  to  do  and  wait  his  time." 

She  brightened  perceptibly.  "  Thank  you,  Brian, 
for  reminding  me.  Good-night,  my  dear  brother, 
always  kind  and  good  to  me,"  and  pressing  gently 
the  hand  that  still  held  her  own,  she  gave  him 
a  farewell  smile  and  went  slowly  into  her  rooms. 


fy  ' 


CHAPTER  XVI 


THE   COLONIAL   COTTAGE 


STANTON  ARMOUR  was  a  man  who  dwelt 
apart  from  other  men  as  far  as  his  inner  Hfc 
was  concerned.  A  large  number  of  people  saw 
him  going  daily  to  his  office ;  a  smaller  number  had 
business  dealings  with  hun  ;  a  select  few  had  an 
occasional  conversation  with  him  in  the  privacy  of 
his  own  house  ;  and  of  the  outer  man  those  people 
could  give  a  very  good  description. 

Of  the  inner  man  they  knew  but  little.  Wrapped 
in  an  impenetrable,  frozen  reserve,  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  tell  what  was  going  on  in  the  hidden  recess<is 
of  his  mind,  except  at  some  occasional  times  when 
he  exhibited  a  flicker  of  interest  or  annoyance  ut 
something  that  was  transpiring  about  him. 

His  reputation  was  that  of  an  honorable,  up- 
right man,  yet  he  was  a  person  to  be  respected  and 
avoided  rather  than  cultivated  and  admired. 

There  were  a  few  people — discerning  souls — 
who  looked  deeper  than  this  and  even  felt  pity  for 
the  man.  They  said  that  his  state  of  frozen  com- 
posure was  unnatural,  and  that  there  was  some- 
where   a    reason    for   it ;    he   had    received   some 

176 


THE    COLONIAL    COTTAGE 


^n 


shock,  he  had  a  secret  trouble,  or  had  been  dis- 
appointed in  love,  or  had  in  some  way  lost  faith  in 
his  fellow-men,  or  perhaps,  it  was  hinted,  his  brain 
might  be  affected.  It  was  a  well-known  fact  that 
he  had  been  a  cheerful  lad,  a  little  sober  in  his 
ways,  inasmuch  as  he  had  begged  his  father  to  take 
him  from  school  and  give  him  a  scat  in  his  office, 
yet  still  a  lad  happy  and  companionable  in  his 
tastes,  and  showing  no  sign  of  the  prematurely 
grave  and  reserved  man  that  he  was  so  suddenly 
to  become. 

This  change  in  him  dated  from  the  time  that  the 
firm  suffered  so  heavily  from  the  defalcations  of 
the  French  bookkeeper,  and  most  people  believed 
that  this  was  the  true  cause  of  Stanton  Armour's 
peculiarities.  He  had  been  very  much  attached  to 
the  Frenchman,  and  his  sudden  falling  into  crime 
had  given  him  a  terrible  shock.  And  stepping  into 
the  disgraced  man's  shoes  as  soon  as  he  did,  would 
have  been  an  occurrence  to  sober  a  much  more 
flighty  lad  than  he  had  ever  been.  From  the  day 
of  Etienne  Delavigne's  departure,  Stanton  Armour 
in  spite  of  his  youth,  had  begun  to  take  upon  him- 
self a  strange  interest  and  oversight  of  his  father's 
business,  and  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time 
was  admitted  to  a  partnership  in  the  house. 

As  the  years  went  by,  though  his  father  was 
still  nominally  head  of  the  firm,  he  it  was  who 
managed  all  important  transactions.     Very  quietly 

M 


I       'I 
i 


'      .    { 


'i 


I 


I  ( 

t 


178 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


this  went  on,  and  only  the  devoted  servants  of  the 
house  saw  the  persistent  pushing  of  the  father  out 
of  the  places  of  responsibility  by  his  youthful,  tal- 
ented, and  apparently  intensely  ambitious  son. 

Outsiders,  when  the  fact  became  impressed  upon 
them,  supposed  it  was  Colonel  Armour's  good  pleas- 
ure that  his  son  should  be  master  in  place  of  himself, 
but  such  was  not  the  case.  The  head  of  the  house 
had  been  primarily  a  man  of  pleasure,  but  he  also 
loved  his  business,  and  had  thrown  himself  into  it 
with  a  zeal  and  relish  and  a  skill  for  making  money 
that  had  made  him  the  envy  and  despair  of  men 
less  fortunate  than  himself.  Then,  after  the  lapse 
of  years,  he  found  himself  quietly  excluded  from 
the  excitements  of  business  life.  His  son  reigned 
while  he  was  yet  alive.  He  resented  this  at  first, 
with  a  wickedness  and  fury  and  a  sense  of  impo- 
tence that  had  at  times  made  him  feel  like  a  mad- 
man, but  in  late  years  more  wisdom  had  come  to 
him,  and  for  Stanton  to  mention  a  thing  was  to 
have  his  father's  ready  acquiescence. 

The  members  of  the  family  and  intimate  friends 
of  the  house  knew  that  there  was  no  sympathy  be- 
tween father  and  son,  and  very  little  intercourse. 
They  rarely  spoke  to  each  other,  except  in  the  pres- 
ence of  strangers.  Stanton  was  master  in  the  busi- 
ness and  master  at  home.  He  occupied  the  seat 
of  honor  at  the  table,  and  his  father  was  as  a  guest. 
Colonel  Armour  did  not  even  sleep  under  his  own 


THE  COLONIAL  COTTAGE 


179 


roof,  though  this  was  his  own  doing,  and  of  his  usual 
place  of  sojourn  we  have  to  speak. 

The  grounds  at  the  back  of  Pinewood  sloped 
gradually  down  to  that  beautiful  inlet  of  the  sea — 
the  Northwest  Arm.  Ikhind  the  house  were  on 
the  one  side,  a  flower  garden,  a  tennis  lawn,  and  a 
boat  house  ;  and  on  the  other  a  semicircular  stretch 
of  pines,  that  began  in  front  of  the  house,  and  with 
a  growth  of  smaller  evergreens  formed  a  thick, 
wedge-shaped  mass  down  to  the  water's  edge. 

A  few  places  there  were  where  lanes  had  been 
cut  among  the  trees  and  gravel  walks  formed. 
The  broadest  of  the  walks  led  to  a  handsome  cot- 
tage, where  dwelt  Colonel  Armour,  at  such  times 
as  he  was  neither  away  from  home,  nor  up  at  the 
large  house,  his  usual  attendant  being  a  Micmac 
Indian  rejoicii:g  in  the  name  of  Joe  Christmas. 

Joe  would  not  sleep  under  the  roof  of  a  sub- 
stantially built  house.  That  would  be  too  great  a 
stretch  of  Indian  devotion.  The  Micmacs  do  not 
take  kindly  to  indoor  life,  and  every  night  when  his 
day's  work  was  done,  Joe  paddled  himself  in  his 
small  canoe  across  the  Arm,  where  he  had  a  soli- 
tary wigwam  among  the  firs  and  spruces  of  a  bit  of 
woodland  belonging  to  the  Armours. 

Valentine  Armour  made  a  constant  jest  of  the 
Indian's  wildwood  habits.  **  Plenty  trees,  Joe,"  he 
would  say,  pointing  to  the  pines  about  the  house. 
"  Build  wigwam  here." 


l^.] 


1 80 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


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"  No,  no ; "  and  Joe  would  shake  his  head, 
and  show  his  tobacco-stained  teeth  in  amusement. 
"Too  near  big  house.     Too  much  speakum." 

Joe's  connection  with  Colonel  Armour  arose 
from  the  fact  that  he  had  been  his  guide  in  many 
a  hunting  excursion  in  years  gone  by,  and  had 
found  the  colonel  so  indulgent  a  master  that  at  last 
he  had  formed  the  habit  of  following  him  home  in 
the  late  autumn,  and  establishing  himself  near  him 
till  the  hunting  season  came  around  again. 

He  was  a  good  cook,  and  he  would  occasionally 
condescend  to  perform  household  tasks,  an  unusual 
favor  from  a  Micmac.  He  also  had  charge  of  the 
boat  house,  and  at  times,  by  a  great  stretch  of 
courtesy,  would  render  some  slight  assistance  to 
the  gardener  or  coachman. 

He  was  an  easy  going,  pleasure-loving  Indian, 
rather  tall  of  stature,  with  olive  skin,  the  dark, 
searching  eyes  of  his  race,  and  thick,  black  hair 
reaching  to  the  back  of  his  neck,  and  there  cut 
squarely  across.  At  a  distance  there  was  a  ridicu- 
lous resemblance  to  his  master  about  him,  owing 
to  his  habit  of  arraying  himself  in  Colonel  Armour's 
cast-off  garments.  In  common  with  other  Mic- 
macs  of  the  present  day,  he  despised  the  skins  and 
blankets  of  his  forefathers  and  aped  the  fashions 
of  the  white  man. 

None  of  the  house  servants  ever  liked  him.  He 
was  "creepy  and  crawly  in  his  ways,"  they  said, 


THE  COLONIAL  COTTAGE 


l8l 


and  though  nothing  could  be  proved  against  the 
good-natured,  mild-spoken  Christmas,  certain  it 
was  that  he  knew  quite  well  of  the  race  prejudice 
that  existed  against  him,  and  any  man-servant  or 
maid-servant  who  carried  matters  with  too  high  a 
hand  invariably  departed  with  suspicious  haste 
from  the  service  of  the  Armours.  They  received 
a  fright,  or  had  an  illnes.-.,  or  suddenly  made  up  their 
minds  that  they  would  leave  without  formulating 
any  complaint — in  short  they  always  went,  and  the 
Indian  if  remonstrated  with  at  all,  only  shook  his 
head,  and  ventured  a  long-drawn  "Ah — h,"  of  sur- 
prise, that  he  should  be  so  misunderstood. 

He  professed  not  to  mind  the  cold  weather,  but 
in  reality  he  hated  it,  and  during  the  winter  days 
he  spent  most  of  his  time  in  the  cheerful  kitchen 
at  the  cottage,  where  before  a  blazing  fire  on  the 
old-fashioned  hearth,  he  made  and  mended  flies, 
fishing  rods,  bows  and  arrows,  and  inspected  and 
polished  the  various  instruments  of  steel  designed 
to  create  havoc  among  beasts,  birds,  and  fishes  dur- 
ing the  next  hunting  season. 

A  few  days  before  Christmas,  while  Joe  was 
squatting  before  his  fire.  Dr.  Camperdown  was 
driving  leisurely  out  to  Pinewood. 

There  had  been  during  the  preceding  day  a 
heavy  fall  of  snow.  Arriving  inside  the  lodge  gates. 
Dr.  Camperdown  heard  a  sound  of  merry  laughter 
and  shouting  before  him. 


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THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


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A  number  of  young  people  in  red,  white,  or  blue 
blanket  costumes  were  careering  over  the  snow  be- 
fore him ;  and  ejaculating,  "  A  snowshoeing  party ! 
Flora  always  has  something  going  on,''  he  gave 
Polypharmacy  an  encouraging  "  Hie  on,"  and  made 
haste  to  join  them. 

As  he  caught  up  with  the  last  stragglers  of  the 
party,  he  was  inwardly  pleased  to  see  Vivienne 
among  them. 

"  Had  a  good  tramp  ?  "  he  asked,  after  respond- 
ing to  her  gay  greeting. 

"  Delightful ! "  she  exclaimed,  her  cheeks  a  blaze 
of  color.  "We've  been  across  the  Arm  and 
to  Dutch  Village,  and  now  we're  coming  in  to 
have  afternoon  tea — and  I  haven't  had  a  tumble 
yet,"  and  as  she  spoke  she  gave  a  coquettish  push 
to  the  toque  on  the  back  of  her  head,  and  looked 
at  him  over  her  shoulder. 

"But  you're  just  going  to  have  one,"  he  said, 
"  take  care." 

It  was  too  late — ^she  had  pushed  the  front  of  her 
long  snowshoe  too  far  into  a  drift,  and  down  she 
went,  with  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  and  sending 
up  a  cloud  of  white,  powdery  flakes  above  her. 

Captain  Macartney,  who  was  her  escort,  made 
haste  to  assist  her  to  her  feet,  and  she  got  up  laugh- 
ing and  choking,  her  mouth  full  of  snow,  her  black 
hair  looking  as  if  it  had  been  powdered. 

"We're  all   too   lively,"  she  cried,  beating  her 


THE   COLONIAL   COTTAGE 


183 


mittens  together;  "our  tramp  hasn't  taken  enough 
out  of  us — just  hear  them  shouting  over  there,  and 
see  me  run,"  she  vociferated,  froHcking  off  on  her 
snowshoes  with  a  gayety  and  wildness  that  made 
her  companion  hurry  after  her,  dragging  his  larger 
appendages  along  more  heavily,  giving  an  oc- 
casional hop  to  facilitate  his  progress,  and  cry- 
ing warningly,  "  'Ware  snowdrifts.  Miss  Delavigne. 
You'll  be  down  again." 

Down  again  she  was,  and  up  again  before  he  got 
to  her,  and  with  some  other  members  of  the  merry 
party  sliding  down  a  steep  snowbank  before  the 
house.  Then  they  joined  a  group  below  them 
busily  engaged  in  arranging  a  set  of  lancers  before 
the  drawing-room  windows. 

"Dance  my  children,  dance,"  called  Flora  ap- 
provingly, and  in  a  lower  key  to  Valentine  Armour, 
"Unfasten  my  thongs  quick,  Val.  I  wish  to  go  in 
and  see  if  the  maids  have  everything  ready." 

The  young  man  went  down  on  one  knee,  and 
bent  his  head  over  her  snowshoes.  He  was  in  a  cos- 
tume of  white,  bordered  by  delicate  pink  and  blue 
stripes.  A  picture  of  young,  manly  beauty  he  was, 
his  black  eyes  sparkling,  his  cheeks  glowing,  the 
white-tasseled  cap  pulled  down  over  the  closely 
cropped  hair,  that  would  have  been  in  waving  curls 
all  over  his  head  had  he  allowed  it  to  grow. 

Judy,  from  a  window  above,  was  watching  the 
progress  of  the  dance.     The  couples  stood  oppo- 


iv 


184 


THE   HOUSE   OF   AKMOUR 


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I  i' 


■Mi  if 


Ml  t  s 


site  each  other,  then  floundering  and  plunging 
through  the  snow,  essayed  to  form  figures  more  or 
less  involved. 

Many  falls,  inextricable  confusion,  and  much 
laughter  ensued,  then  the  attempt  was  given  up. 
Unfastening  their  snowshoes  they  filed  gayly  into 
the  house.  Dr.  Camperdown  watched  them  out  of 
sight,  the  smile  on  his  face  dying  away,  as  his  keen 
eyes  caught  sight  of  poor,  mis-shapen  little  Judy, 
half-hidden  behind  the  window  curtains,  her  face 
convulsed  with  envy  and  annoyance.  Such  amuse- 
ments were  not  for  her.  She  never  would  be  strong 
and  well  like  other  girls. 

Dr.  Camperdown's  gaze  softened.  Springing 
from  his  sleigh,  he  anchored  Polypharmacy  to  a 
snowdrift,  and  casting  off  his  huge  raccoon  coat, 
like  an  animal  shedding  its  skin,  he  took  a  book 
from  a  pocket  in  it,  and  made  his  way  to  the  draw- 
ing room. 

Divans,  ottomans,  and  arm-chairs  were  full  of 
young  people,  chatting,  laughing,  and  telling  jokes 
over  their  tea  and  coffee,   sandwiches  and  cake. 

**  I  believe  you  young  people  laugh  all  the  time," 
he  grumbled  good-naturedly,  coming  to  a  halt  in 
the  middle  of  the  room,  and  surveying  them  from 
under  his  eyebrows.  "Girls  especially — always 
giggling." 

"How  old  are  you,  dear  doctor?"  exclaimed  a 
pretty  girl  of  seventeen,  looking  saucily  up  into  his 


THE  COLONIAL  COTTAGE 


185 


face.  "Is  it  a  thousand  or  two  thousand?  I'm 
only  twenty/'  and  she  made  an  audacious  face  at 
her  teacup. 

"Silly  girl,"  and  the  man  looked  down  kindly  at 
her;  "silly  girl.  Where  is  Judy  Colonibel?  She 
is  the  only  sensible  one  in  this  party.  Judy,  Judy; 
where  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  where  she  has  bestowed  herself," 
said  Mrs.  Colonibel  complainingly.  "She  could 
be  of  assistance  to  me  if  she  were  here.  Won't 
you  find  her,  Brian  ?  " 

Camperdown  went  out  into  the  hail,  and  lifted  up 
his  voice.     "Judy,  I  have  a  present  for  you." 

She  appeared  then — hobbling  along  over  the  car- 
pet with  childish  eagerness. 

"It  is  that  vara  avis,  a  Canadian  novel,"  said 
Camperdown.  "The  glittering  romance  of  the 
*  Golden  Dog.'  See  the  picture  of  him.  Gnawing 
a  man's  thigh  bone.  Looks  as  if  he  enjoyed  it. 
Read  the  French,  Judy." 

The  girl  bent  her  head  over  the  book  and  read 

slowly : 

'•  Je  suis  un  chien  qui  ronge  I'os, 
En  le  rongeant  je  prends  mon  repos. 
Un  temps  viendra  qui  n'  est  pas  venu 
Que  je  mordrai  qui  m'aura  mordu."  ^ 

*  The  following  is  a  free  translation  [Ed.]. 

"  I  am  a  dog  that  gnaws  his  bone. 

And  while  he's  gnawing  takes  his  rest ; 
In  time  not  yet,  but  yet  to  come. 
Who's  bitten  me,  I'll  bite  with  xest." 


Nil: 


1 86 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


VI 


"Hateful  words,"  said  Dr.  Camperdown,  "and 
a  hateful  tragedy.  When  you  go  to  Quebec,  Judy, 
you'll  see  the  dog  tablet  there  yet.  But  you 
needn't  go  out  of  Halifax  for  Golden  Dogs.  Bitten 
ones  there  are  here,  plenty  of  them,  gnawing 
bones  and  waiting  a  chance  to  bite  back.  You've 
got  your  own  Golden  Dog,  you  Armours,"  he 
added  under  his  breath. 

Then  surveying  critically  the  young  girl  whose 
face  was  buried  in  the  volume,  "Body  here,  Judy — 
mind  already  back  to  time  of  Louis  Quinze.  Don't 
read  so  steadily,  you  small  bookworm.  Remem- 
ber your  eyes.     Better,  aren't  they  ?  " 

"  No  ;  worse,"  said  the  girl  impatiently. 

"Go  and  help  your  mother,  won't  you?  She 
needs  you." 

"She  can  get  on  without  me,"  sullenly.  "I 
have  to  do  without  her,"  and  pulling  her  hand  from 
him,  she  made  as  though  she  would  go  upstairs. 
Suddenly  she  stopped,  and  eyed  him  curiously. 
She  was  struck  by  the  intentness  of  his  glance. 
"  What  are  you  thinking  of?  "  she  asked. 

"Of  a  poor  child — ^younger  than  you,  called 
Zeb.  When  you're  disagreeable  you  look  like 
her." 

She  smiled  disdainfully,  and  began  to  limp  up- 
stairs. "Judy,"  he  called  after  her,  "where's  the 
colonel?  He  likes  this  sort  of  thing,"  with  a  ges- 
ture in  the  direction  of  the  drawing  room. 


THE  COLONIAL  COTTAGE 


187 


"  He's  not  well,"  said  Judy  with  a  meaning 
smile.  "  Mamma  sent  for  him,  but  he's  dining 
early  in  the  seclusion  of  the  cottage.  Good-bye, 
and  thank  you  for  the  book,''  and  she  took  herself 
upstairs  with  such  haste  that  he  could  not  have  re- 
called her  had  he  wished  to  do  so. 

**  Poor  girl,"  he  muttered ;  "  books  her  only  com- 
fort. Glad  Flora  isn't  riiy  mother,"  and  with  this 
sage  reflection,  he  rammed  his  fur  cap  over  his 
ears,  turned  up  his  coat  collar,  and  opening  a  door 
at  the  back  of  the  hall,  crossed  a  veranda,  went 
down  a  flight  of  steps,  and  struck  into  a  path  cut 
through  the  drifted  snow,  and  leading  down  to  the 
cottage. 

It  was  very  quiet  under  the  pines.  There  was 
only  a  faint  breath  of  wind,  ruffling  occasionally  a 
few  flakes  of  snow  from  the  feathery  armfuls  held 
out  by  the  flat,  extended  branches  of  the  ever- 
greens. Everything  was  pure  and  spotless.  The 
white  path  that  he  followed  was  almost  untrodden. 
The  stars  blinked  down  through  fleecy  clouds  on 
an  earth  that  for  once  was  clean  and  without  stain. 

The  lights  from  the  cottage  streamed  out  through 
the  windows  and  lay  in  colored  bands  on  the  banks 
of  snow.  Dr.  Camperdown  paused  an  instant  in 
the  shadows  of  the  trees  as  some  one  approached 
one  of  the  windows  and  propped  open  a  variegated 
square  of  glass. 

"  Must  be  getting  hot  in  there,"  he  murmured. 


.■I'    ' 


pi 

if; 

f 

r 

U 

Ii4  ■■ 


h¥1 


if 


1:^ 


fl 


i88 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


going  nearer.  "I  hope  the  Colonel  isn't  getting 
/tors  de  combat'' 

He  was  looking  into  the  dining  room,  a  small 
apartment  floored  and  wainscoted  in  dark  Canadian 
wood,  and  hung  around  with  pictures,  trophies,  and 
implements  of  hunting  life.  The  floor  was  partly- 
covered  with  bear  and  wolfskin  rugs,  and  in  the 
middle  of  the  room  stood  a  small  table,  covered 
with  a  spotless  damask  cloth,  and  having  served  on 
it  a  dinner  for  one  person.  Of  this  dinner  Colonel 
Armour  had  evidently  been  partaking,  but  at  the 
moment  when  Dr.  Camperdown  looked  in  at  the 
window,  his  strength  or  will  to  enjoy  it  had  sud- 
denly forsaken  him,  for  the  Micmac  was  carefully 
assisting  him  to  the  floor. 

Colonel  Armour  was,  as  usual,  handsomely 
dressed,  and  held  his  serviette  clutched  in  his  hand, 
but  his  head  hung  on  one  side  and  his  limbs 
seemed  powerless  as  the  Micmac,  holding  him 
under  the  arms,  slipped  him  to  the  center  of  the 
soft,  bearskin  rug.  The  rug  had  been  dressed  with 
the  head  of  the  bear,  and  placing  his  master's  head 
close  to  the  fiery  jaws,  Joe  took  the  napkin  from 
the  clasped  fingers,  straightened  out  the  loose 
limbs,  and  placing  a  fire-screen'  between  Colonel 
Armour's  face  and  the  leaping  flames  on  the  hearth, 
seated  himself  at  the  table  and  proceeded  to  eat 
up  the  dinner  decently  and  in  order. 

Rejecting  all  the  wine  glasses  that  stood  in  a 


THE  COLONIAL  COTTAGE 


189 


group  beside  Colonel  Armour's  plate,  Joe  selected 
one  of  the  several  decanters  on  the  table,  and  drank 
only  from  it,  tilting  it  up  to  his  mouth  with  an  oc- 
casional stealthy  glance  at  the  prostrate  figure  be- 
yond him. 

*'Port!"  ejaculated  Dr.  Camperdown.  "The 
beggar  has  a  discriminating  tooth.  Drinks  mod- 
erately too.  Doesn't  emulate  his  master,"  with  a 
contemptuous  glance  at  the  hearth  rug.  "Sound 
as  a  pig,  he  is.  I'll  go  in.  First  though,"  with  a 
mischievous  twinkle  in  his  eye,  "  must  frighten  Joe. 
He's  doing  wrong.     Ought  to  be  punished." 

Drawing  in  a  deep  breath  he  ejaculated  in  a  se- 
pulchral voice,  "  Joe  Christmas  ! " 

The  Indian  had  a  conscience,  and  he  knew  that 
he  ought  to  be  taking  his  dinner  in  the  kitchen,  so 
when  Dr.  Camperdown's  terrifying  voice  fell  on  his 
ear  he  sprang  from  his  seat,  wildly  extended  his 
arms  in  the  air,  and  still  clutching  between  his  fin- 
gers the  half-empty  decanter,  unfortunately  re- 
versed it  and  allowed  the  wine  to  trickle  in  a  red 
stream  down  Colonel  Armour's  immaculate  shirt 
front 

Camperdown  laughed  convulsively,  and  strode 
along  the  path  to  the  front  door. 

The  Micmac  let  him  in  and  surveyed  him  with 
mingled  respect,  admiration,  and  remonstrance. 

"  Couldn't  help  it,  Joe,"  exclaimed  Dr.  Cam- 
perdown chuckling.     "  You  looked  too  comfort- 


~f^ — — 


I90 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


■<  i'.- 


able.  Is  the  colonel  sick?  "  pointing  to  the  hearth- 
rug. 

"Not  bery  sick,"  said  the  Micmac,  looking  at 
the  table.      "Drinkum  too  much  wine." 

"  Colonel  can  drinkum  wine,  but  if  Micmac 
drinks  too  much,  he  can  go  live  in  woods,"  said 
Dr.  Camperdown  meaningly. 

"  Me  no  likum  wine,"  said  Joe. 

"Come  now,  Joe,  is  that  truth  in  inside  heart?" 
asked  the  doctor. 

The  Indian  smiled  and  laid  his  hand  on  his  wide 
chest.  "Little  wine  good — make  inside  warm, 
Much  wine  bad — makeum  squaws  lazy." 

"And  Indians  too,"  said  Dr.  Camperdown. 
"  Now  listen,  Joe ;  I  want  to  talk  to  you.  Who 
gave  Micmac  medicine  when  he  was  doubled  up 
with  awful  disease  called  cramps  ?  " 

"  Doctor  did,"  said  Joe  bluntly. 

"  Who  gave  him  powders  when  he  got  too  yellow, 
and  pills  when  he  got  too  fat  ?  " 

"  Doctor  did,"  replied  Joe  yet  more  bluntly. 

*'Who  gave  him  good  tobacco,  and  paid  his 
gambling  debts,  when  colonel  would  have  been 
angry,  and  policeman  might  have  taken  Joe  to 
prison  and  skinned  him  alive  ?  " 

"Big  doctor  did,"  responded  Joe,  his  manner 
the  quintessence  of  independence. 

"  And  who  will  do  it  again  ?  great  fool  that  he 
is,"  asked  Dr.  Camperdown  grumblingly. 


THE  COLONIAL  COTTAGE 


191 


**  Doctor  will,"  exclaimed  Joe  joyfully. 

With  an  abrupt  change  of  subject,  Dr.  Camper- 
down  went  on,  "  You  know  new  young  lady  up  to 
big  house?" 

"  Me  knowum." 

"She  very  fine  girl/*  said  Dr.  Camperdown 
earnestly. 

"  Bery  fine,"  echoed  Joe,  in  level,  guarded  tones, 
but  with  the  slightest  suspicion  of  a  glance  in  the 
direction  of  the  hearth-rug,  that  at  once  caught 
Dr.  Camperdowr's  attention. 

.  "  Colonel  not  very  polite  to  young  lady,"   he 
said  carelessly. 

"  Not  bery  polite,"  responded  Joe  with  portent- 
ous gravity. 

"Colonel  musn't  get  too  cross  to  young  lady," 
asserted  Dr.  Camperdown  without  apparent  mean- 
ing. 

"  Not  too  cross  young  lady,"  repeated  Joe  with 
the  aggravating  inanity  of  a  talking  machine. 

Dr.  Camperdown  almost  lost  patience,  and  felt 
inclined  to  indulge  in  one  of  his  fits  of  ill-temper. 
But  he  restrained  himself,  only  muttering  under 
breath,  "  You  rasping,  unaccommodating  Micmac, 
I'd  like  to  thrash  you."  Then  he  said  aloud. 
"  Young  lady  French,  Joe.  Her  fathers  and  your 
fathers  great  friends." 

Joe  replied  to  this  statement  by  a  non-committal 
grunt. 


192 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  Servants  up  at  big  house  not  like  young  lady 
much,"  observed  Dr.  Camperdown. 

The  Micmac's  sleepy  eyes  lighted  up.  "  Took — 
fat  porpoise — ^Jane  one  wild-cat.  She  not  stay 
many  moons." 

Dr.  Camperdown  laughed  sarcastically.  "You 
true  prophet  about  servants,  Joe.  Shall  I  tell  Mrs. 
Colonibel  to  search  for  new  maids  ?  " 

Joe  did  not  show  any  signs  of  confusion,  except 
by  withdrawing  his  eyes  from  Dr.  Camperdown, 
and  staring  stolidly  at  the  fire. 

"You  good  servant,  Joe,"  remarked  Dr.  Cam- 
perdown cajolingly.  "  You  serve  Colonel  Armour 
well.  You  can  serve  him  and  young  lady  too.  She 
all  alone.  You  watch,  Joe,  and  if  young  lady  wants 
a  friend,  you  help  her.  You  not  let  any  one  do 
anything  to  hurt  her." 

Joe  was  a  faithful  servant  to  the  House  of  Armour 
in  his  mistaken  sense  of  the  term,  inasmuch  as  he 
was  too  ready  to  do  the  bidding  of  any  members 
of  the  family,  no  matter  how  dishonorable  a  thing 
he  might  be  required  to  do.  If  V'^'tenne  Delavigne 
had  been  received  kindly  by  the  Armours  and 
treated  as  one  of  themselves  he  would  have  had 
not  the  slightest  hesitation  in  giving  Dr.  Camper- 
down the  pledge  he  required.  But  with  the 
keenness  and  sharp  wit  of  an  Indian,  he  had 
quickly  divined  the  status  of  the  young  lady  up  at 
the  big  house,  and  thought  that  a  promise  of  ser- 


THE   COLONIAL   COTTAGE 


193 


\  lady 

Qok — 
t  stay 

"You 
1  Mrs. 

except 
down, 

Cam- 
.rmour 
I.  She 
'wants 
ne  do 

rmour 

as  he 

mbers 

thing 

avignc 

and 

had 


J 


h 


mper- 
the 
had 
up  at 
)f  ser- 


vice to  her  might  complicate  his  relations  with  the 
family  of  his  employer.  And  still,  he  was  under 
great  obligations  to  Dr.  Camperdown,  and  felt  sure 
that  the  physician  would  not  require  him  to  attempt 
the  impossible.  So  at  last  he  said  gravely,  "If 
young  lady  need,  I  servum — if  no  need,  I  no 
servum." 

"That's  good,  Joe,"  said  the  Doctor  with  im- 
mense satisfaction.  "  You've  given  me  your  word, 
and  being  only  a  poor  Micmac  aiul  not  a  clever 
white  man,  you  won't  break  it.  Here's  a  roll  of 
tobacco.  Good-night  to  you,"  'ind  he  swung  him- 
self :,\xt  of  the  cottage  as  precipitately  as  he  had 
come,  hurrying  along  the  winding  path  muttering 
contentedly,  "That's  done.  Stargarde  would  be 
pleased,  if  she  knew,"  and  listening  with  pleasure 
to  the  faint  song  of  the  snowshoers  who  were  just 
leaving  the  house  : 

**Hilloo,  Hilloo,  Hilloo,  Hilloo  ! 

Gather,  gather  ye  men  in  white  ; 
The  winds  blow  keenly,  the  moon  is  bright, 

The  sparkling  snow  lies  firm  and  white  ! 
Tie  on  the  shoe,  no  time  to  lose, 

We  must  be  over  the  hill  to-night" 


N 


CHAPTER  XVII 


MACDALY  S   DREAM 


n 


I  WONDER  where  MacDaly  is?"  queried  Star- 
garde. 

Vivienne  was  spending  the  day  with  her,  and 
together  they  were  walking  up  and  down  the  Pa- 
vilion courtyard.  The  brilliance  of  the  afternoon 
sunshine  and  the  purity  of  the  earth,  where  a  thin 
veil  of  snow  lay  over  all  deformities  and  unsightli- 
ness,  had  tempted  them  out  of  doors. 

"  Who  is  this  MacDaly  that  you  are  so  anxious 
to  see  ?  "  asked  Vivienne. 

Stargarde  laughed,  then  her  face  became  grave. 
"  He  is  a  poor  old  soldier  who  boasts  continually 
that  his  father  was  a  gentleman,  though  he  himself 
has  sadly  fallen  from  that  estate." 

"And  is  he  one  of  your  proteges  f* 

"Yes  ;  he  lives  over  the  washhouse,"  said  Star- 
garde  with  a  motion  of  her  hand  in  the  direction 
of  a  near  brick  building.  "  I  sent  him  to  town  with 
a  note.     I  fear  that  he  has  gotten  into  trouble." 

"Does  he  drink?" 

"At  times  he  does.  He  meets  old  companions 
who  tempt  him  to  do  so.  I  feel  a  responsibility 
194 


MACDALY  S    DREAM 


195 


about  him,  for  he  used  to  be  Colonel  Armour's 
night-watchman  at  the  warehouse.  He  was  dis- 
missed for  some  cause  or  other  many  years  ago, 
and  he  never  ceases  to  mourn  over  it" 

Vivienne  wondered  why  Stargarde  should  feel 
any  responsibility  for  Colonel  Armour's  actions, 
but  dismissed  the  thought  from  her  mind  on  reflect- 
ing that  to  Starp^arde  all  men  were  brothers. 

She  put  her  hand  through  Stargarde's  arm  and 
pressed  it  gently  as  they  walked  up  and  down  the 
path.  "  Do  not  worry  about  him.  He  will  return. 
Think  what  a  glorious  day  this  is." 

"Ah,  yes,"  said  Stargarde,  turning  her  face  up 
toward  the  deep  blue  of  the  sky.  "It  is  a  pleasure 
to  live." 

"  I  love  this  clear  frosty  weather,"  said  Vivienne ; 

'it  is  so  much  more  agreeable  than  the  wind,"  and 

she  shrugged  her  shoulders  inside  her  warm  jacket. 

"And   you,  dear  Stargarde,  are   you  sufficiently 

clad  in  that  short  cloak  ?  " 

"Do  I  not  look  comfortable?"  asked  Stargarde 
mischievously. 

They  surveyed  each  other  with  amused  glances. 
Both  were  very  fair,  there  was  no  doubt  about  it. 
Over  their  cheeks  Jack  Frost  had  drawn  his  finger. 
They  had  the  brilliant  coloring,  the  light  in  the  eye 
that  comes  to  those  in  perfect  health. 

"  My  blood  is  dancing  in  my  veins,"  said  Star- 
garde ;  "  and  yours " 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 

"  It  dances  also,"  said  Vivienne  demurely. 

"Then  we  will  remain  out  a  little  longer,"  said 
Stargarde  ;  "  as  good  as  the  air  may  be  in  the  house 
it  is  always  better  out  of  doors." 

"  Please  continue  talking  to  me  about  your  theo- 
ries with  regard  to  the  poor,"  said  Vivienne  earn- 
estly. 

Stargarde  pinched  her  cheek,  then  nothing  loath 
entered  upon  a  discussion  of  various  philanthropic 
schemes  where  Vivienne,  she  knew,  would  follow 
her  with  interest.  Occasionally,  however,  her 
glance  wandered  to  the  washhouse,  and  Vivienne 
knew  that  she  was  thinking  of  the  ex-soldier. 

MacDaly  was  not  thinking  of  his  kind  patroness. 
He  was  lower  down  in  the  town,  just  steering  his 
way  out  of  a  low  drinking  shop,  and  in  a  slow  and 
interlaced  fashion  wandering  down  the  street  v/hile 
he  communed  with  himself  after  the  following  man- 
ner :  "  If  I  were  making  an  observation  on  the  sub- 
ject 'twould  be  on  the  effect  of  the  curiosity  of  the 
subject  That  whereas  and  however,  in  some 
human  creatures,  liquor  flies  to  the  head,  in  sun- 
dry other  and  divers  intelligent  cases,  it  takes  the 
opposite  direction  and  bewilders  the  feet  On  the 
present  occasion,  my  head  or  head-piece,  otherwise 
known  as  pate,  noddle,  or  skull,  is  perspicacious  and 
discriminating — acute  and  high  in  tone  as  usual. 
I  feel  that  I  could  sing  were  there  any  one  to  hear," 
and  lifting  up  his  voice  he  began  to  warble  dig- 


macdaly's  dream 


197 


cordantly   and    with   a  vainglorious   and    martial 
accent : 

"'Tis  the  flag  of  Old  England." 


i> 


e  dis- 


Pride  will  have  a  fall,  and  by  reason  of  too  much 
attention  given  to  the  head,  the  feet  got  beyond 
control,  and  MacDaly  shortly  found  himself  in  the 
gutter. 

Halifax  people,  no  matter  how  great  a  fall  of 
snow  they  have,  immediately  begin  to  dig  trenches 
through  it  in  preparation  for  the  thaw  which  they 
know  is  sure  to  come.  In  one  of  these  hollowed- 
out  beds — no  unpleasant  resting-place  for  a  warmly 
clad  man  who  had  just  come  from  a  heated  saloon 
— Derrick  Edward  Fitz-James  O' Grady  MacDaly, 
old  soldier,  Irish  Nova  Scotian,  loafer,  drunkard, 
lecturer,  merrymaker,  and  character  well  known 
about  the  town,  reposed,  till  he  was  discovered  by 
two  small  boys  who  happened  to  be  passing  up  the 
street 

"  Hallo,  here's  Skitanglebags,"  said  one  of  them, 
referring  to  him  by  his  accepted  nickname,  "drunk 
as  an  owl.     Let's  muzzle  him." 

"  No  ;  cork  him,"  suggested  the  other. 

MacDaly,  in  his  cool  and  comfortable  bed,  felt 
his  soul  revolting  from  both  of  the  two  forms  of 
torture  proposed.  He  knew  that  the  boys  were 
quite  capable  of  either  rolling  and  smothering  him 
in  the  snow  or  of  stopping  up  his  mouth,  for  they 


1 

1 

1 

it 

i 

Sim 

mm' 


mi 


198 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


were  at  that  age  which  La  Fontaine  says  is  "  with- 
out pity." 

"Gentlemen,"  he  piped  up  shrilly,  "would  either 
of  you  be  knowing  any  one  that  might  for  any  reason 
be  wanting  a  pup  ?  " 

True  to  the  dog-trading  instinct  which  has  made 
Halifax  vie  with  Constantinople  as  an  agreeable 
place  of  residence  for  the  canine  tribe,  the  lads  ex- 
claimed in  eager  concert,  "Have  you  got  a  pup?" 

Yes ;  he  had  a  pup,  he  said,  and  during  a  dis- 
cussion of  its  merits  he  cunningly  persuaded  the 
boys  to  assist  him  to  his  feet  Then  with  one  on 
each  side  of  him,  he  ambled  along  the  street  nod- 
ding amiably  to  any  acquaintances  he  happened  to 
meet  and  suppressing  with  difficulty  his  strong  de- 
sire to  break  forth  into  singing. 

The  two  lads  he  was  decoying  home  with  him 
under  pretence  of  wishing  them  to  see  the  pup 
that  he  described  as  surpassing  in  beauty  all  other 
pups  that  had  ever  been  offered  for  sale  to  them. 

"  What  breed  is  it,  Skitanglebags  ?  "  asked  one 
of  them. 

"And  what  is  the  breed  you  might  be  wanting 
to  have,  if  you'd  not  be  above  mentioning  it?" 
asked  MacDaly  guardedly. 

"Bull  terrier." 

"And  you've  named  the  name  of  the  fathers  and 
forefathers  and  grandmothers  and  patriarchs  of  my 
dog's  tribe  as  far  back  as  the  records  go,"  said  Mac- 


MACDALY  S    DREAM 


199 


M 


Daly.  "  His  pedigree  is  that  long  that  my  wall  is 
fairly  covered  with  it,  and  it  hangs  down  on  the 
floor,"  and  he  plunged  into  an  enumeration  of  the 
points  of  the  dog.  His  head,  jaws,  ears,  shoulders, 
chest,  feet,  color,  symmetry,  and  size,  were  minutely 
described,  the  boys  meanwhile  listening  with  de- 
lighted ears,  and  forgiving  him  his  frequent  lurches 
against  them.  They  also  kept  a  brisk  lookout  for 
policemen,  and  when  a  dark  coat  with  brass  but- 
tons was  seen  in  the  distance,  guided  MacDaly  into 
the  doorway  of  some  house,  where  they  kept  him 
until  the  enemy  had  passed. 

Long  before  they  had  reached  the  Pavilion  the 
whisky  that  he  had  been  drinking  began  to  mount 
to  his  brain,  and  he  shocked  and  annoyed  the  boys 
by  his  manner  of  conducting  himself 

"Bother  you,"  said  one  of  them,  kicking  him  on 
the  shins.  "  Keep  off  my  feet.  You're  doing  the 
'Dutch  roll'  and  the  'inside  edge'  all  over  the 
place.     You're  not  on  skates." 

"  Oddsboddikins,  what  a  glorious  lady ! "  was 
MacDaly's  response.  "Smart  and  tricksy  as  a 
fresh-scraped  carrot,"  and  hat  in  hand,  he  bowed  so 
low  in  admiration  of  a  plain-featured,  elderly  woman 
who  was  passing,  that  he  was  in  imminent  danger  of 
losing  his  balance  and  falling  prostrate  at  her  feet. 

'*  I'll  send  a  policeman  after  you,"  she  retorted 
angrily,  as  she  went  by. 

"Beauteous   lady,  sleek  and   pleasurable  crea- 


200 


THE  HOUSE  OF  ARMOUR 


I 


!5   :: 


f\ 


ture,"  pleaded  MacDaly,  looking  after  her,  "be  not 
repellent  to  thy  servant     Thou  art " 

His  further  speech  was  broken  by  the  two  boys, 
who,  seizing  him  by  the  arms,  hurried  him  so  rap- 
idly around  a  corner  and  into  a  long  street  that  he 
had  not  breath  enough  to  utter  a  word. 

He  proceeded  along  the  street  soberly  enough, 
only  taking  off  his  cap  to  each  electric-light  post, 
and  to  each  of  the  unused  iron  gaslight  pillars, 
that  still  stud  the  streets  of  Halifax,  till  he  came  to 
a  church.  There  he  persisted  in  sitting  down  on 
the  steps  and  shedding  a  few  tears  over  his  sins. 

The  boys  at  length  drove  him  off,  and  he  stag- 
gered along  a  few  paces  to  a  small  field  between 
the  church  and  the  schoolhouse,  and  gazed  be- 
tween the  pickets  of  the  fence. 

"What  are  you  looking  for,  Skitanglebags  ? " 
asked  one  of  his  escorts. 

**A  little  mammiferous  quadruped,  my  boy,"  he 
replied,  with  tears  streaming  down  his  cheeks. 
"A  little  thing  with  cloven  hoofs  and  hollow  horns, 
a  creature  called  a  goat.  Alas,  I  loved  it,  and  it 
has  been  taken  hence." 

"Oh,  drop  that,"  said  the  lads  in  chorus,  and 
they  again  urged  him  onward.  "What  would  the 
goat  do  there  in  winter  ?  There's  nothing  but  snow 
in  the  field  now." 

"  I  never  loved  a  sweet  gazelle,"  MacDaly 
hummed  lightly,  leaning  back  on  his  bearers,  and 


macdaly's  dream 


201 


tt 


allowing  his  long  legs  to  somewhat  precede  him  up 
the  hill.  Opposite  a  schoolhouse  he  came  to  a 
dead  halt     "Who  comes  here?     Stand  easy,  sir." 

Colonel  Armour  was  walking  along  the  street  at 
a  leisurely  gait,  a  single  eyeglass  in  his  eye,  a  hand- 
some sealskin  cap  set  on  his  gray  hair,  his  dark, 
heavy  coat  fitting  him  without  a  wrinkle.  With 
his  straight,  military  figure,  his  handsome  appear- 
ance, no  greater  contrast  to  the  week-kneed 
drunkard  advancing  toward  him  could  be  im- 
agined. He  stared  slightly  at  MacDaly  as  he 
passed,  but  made  no  sign  of  recognition. 

Like  some  noxious  reptile  fascinated  by  a  bird  of 
fine  appearance  MacDaly  gazed  at  him.  When  Col- 
onel Armour  went  by  without  quickening  or  slack- 
ening his  pace,  MacDaly  turned,  and  with  eyes 
glued  to  the  retreating  figure  watched  it  out  of 
sight.  Then  he  stooped  down,  and  catching  up 
some  snow  pressed  it  to  his  forehead. 

"  Let  go  my  arms,  boys,"  he  caid,  with  some  irri- 
tation. "I  can  walk  now.  I've  had  a  shock," 
and  he  marched  ahead  of  them  without  help,  keep- 
ing his  feet  well  and  only  stumbling  occasionally. 

Silently  they  passed  by  one  house  after  another, 
nearly  all  built  in  the  monotonous,  square-roomed 
style  of  architecture  that  prevails  in  Halifax,  until 
they  arrived  before  the  Pavilion.  The  boys  took 
MacDaly,  who  was  now  partly  over  his  shock,  and 
was  again  walking  unsteadily,  in  through  the  gate 


i^^ 


202 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


to  the  washhouse  where,  entirely  oblivious  of  them, 
he  was  about  mounting  to  his  small  apartment  in 
the  attic. 

"The  pup,  Skitanglebags ! "  ejaculated  one  of 
them  impatiently. 

He  stared  at  the  boy  in  a  confused  manner,  then 
as  his  promise  came  back  to  him,  muttered  :  "Yes, 
yes ;  the  pup — I'll  try  to  find  him.  Follow  me, 
gentlemen."  Rolling  his  eyes  about  him  as  if  seek- 
ing inspiration  he  climbed  the  steps  to  the  attic, 
closely  followed  by  the  boys. 

"  Why  don't  you  call  him  ?  "  asked  one  of  them. 
"What's  his  name?" 

"His  name ? "  and  MacDaly,  nimble-witted  as 
he  was,  could  not  for  his-  life  call  up  on  the  in- 
stant the  name  of  any  of  his  former  quadrupeds. 
"  I  call  him — I  call  him "  he  responded. 

His  sentence  was  never  finished.  While  speak- 
ing to  the  boys,  his  eye  fell  on  a  small  hole  in  the 
wall,  through  which  he  took  surveys  of  the  court- 
yard. He  still  kept  up  some  of  the  traditions  of 
a  long-ago  brief  military  experience.  The  wash- 
house  was  his  fortress ;  the  Pavilion  sometimes  the 
camp  of  an  enemy,  sometimes  the  stronghold  of  an 
ally.  Just  now  there  was  a  besieging  force  advanc- 
ing upon  him,  consisting  of  two  ladies.  With  a 
face  of  dismay  he  watched  Stargarde  coming  toward 
his  place  of  retreat.  The  figure  of  the  young  lady 
with  her  was  not  familiar  to  him.     MacDaly  did  not 


MACDALY  S    DREAM 


203 


care  particularly  who  she  was ;  he  did  not  look  at 
her  until,  as  Stargarde  pointed  to  the  washhouse, 
the  girl  lifted  her  head.  Then  he  clapped  his 
hand  to  his  mouth  to  restrain  a  shrill  cry — a  long 
unseen  face  had  risen  before  him. 

"  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us,  miserable  sinners ! " 
he  gasped,  and  huddling  the  two  astonished  boys 
together,  he  drove  them  into  the  small  room  where 
he  slept,  and  turning  a  wooden  button  on  the  door, 
forbade  them  on  the  peril  of  their  lives  to  move 
hand  or  foot  till  he  should  tell  them  to  do  so. 

"  MacDaly,  MacDaly — are  you  here?"  came 
floating  up  to  his  room  in  Stargarde's  clear  voice. 

Shivering  violently,  MacDaly  clutched  the 
shoulders  of  the  half-frightened,  half-angry  boys. 
"Whisht — ^whisht,"  he  said  in  a  warning  undertone 
to  them. 

"  Not  home  yet,"  they  heard  her  say  to  her 
companion.  "  I  must  send  some  one  to  look  for 
him. 

When  the  sound  of  their  footsteps  died  away, 
the  boys  wrathfully  demanded  an  explanation  from 
MacDaly,  for  they  plainly  saw  that  they  had  been 
deceived  in  the  matter  of  the  pup. 

Instead  of  an  explanation  they  received  a  tem- 
perance lecture.  Shocked  once  more  into  partial 
sobriety,  the  miserable  man,  with  the  fumes  of 
liquor  still  on  his  breath,  and  with  an  earnestness 
that   impressed  the   boys  in  spite  of  their  anger, 


■<;f; 


204 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


begged  and  prayed  them  never  to  touch  a  drop  of 
anything  stronger  than  water. 

"  It  will  be  the  ruin  of  you,  my  lads,"  he  said 
brushing  the  moisture  from  his  bleared  eyes. 
"Swear  by  your  fathers  and  mothers  that  you'll 
leave  the  cursed  stuff  alone.  'Twill  make  ye  any- 
thing— thieves,  liars,  and  even  murderers." 

The  boys,  more  struck  by  his  extraordinary 
ascent  from  foolishness  and  frivolity  to  impassioned 
and  clear  language,  than  by  the  fervor  of  his  ex- 
hortations, shook  off  his  persuasive  hand  and,  assur- 
ing him  that  they  could  take  care  of  themselves, 
insisted  upon  their  immediate  release  from  his  room. 

Not  until  Stargarde  had  crossed  the  veranda  and 
entered  her  rooms  did  MacDaly  permit  them  to  go. 
Then,  with  many  adjurations  to  be  quiet,  they  were 
allowed  to  slip  out  from  the  washhouse  and  make 
their  way  back  to  town. 

After  their  departure  MacDaly  threw  himself  on 
his  bed.  He  might  at  any  time  be  summoned  to 
an  interview  with  Stargarde  and  it  would  be  well 
for  him  to  refresh  himself  by  a  nap. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  was  snoring  loudly  and  going 
over  again  in  his  brutish  sleep  the  tragic  story  of 
Etienne  Delavigne,  that  had  been  brought  to  his 
mind  first  by  Colonel  Armour,  whose  appearance 
never  failed  to  move  him  strongly,  and  secondly  by 
the  unexpected  apparition  of  the  young  French 
girl,  who  was  so  marvelously  like  her  father. 


MACDALYS    DREAM 


205 


In  a  troubled  phantasmagoria  Colonel  Armour 
was  before  him — not  the  Colonel  Armour  of  to-day 
keeping  up  his  ghastly  fight  with  old  age,  but  the 
handsome  middle-aged  man  of  twenty  years  before. 
Stanton  Armour  was  there  too,  a  bright-faced 
happy  lad.  Etienne  Delavigne,  their  modest  and 
retiring  bookkeeper,  and  Madeleine  Delavigne,  his 
shy,  proud,  aristocratic  wife,  the  pet  of  the  Armour 
family.  Then  a  horrid  jumble  took  place — the 
mild  and  gentle  Etienne  Delavigne  was  furiously 
angry  with  the  colonel,  and  a  quarrel  was  taking 
place  between  the  two  of  which  he.  Derrick  Edward 
Fitz-James  O*  Grady  MacDaly  was  sole  witness. 
Delavigne  was  flung  out  of  his  employer's  office, 
the  warehouse  was  on  fire,  and  the  evil  one  appeared 
in  person  to  seize  the  eavesdropping  MacDaly,  who 
lay  on  his  back  rigid  with  terror. 

While  he  was  sleeping  and  dreaming  a  tall  dark 
figure  had  come  noiselessly  up  the  steps  to  his 
room,  a  hand  was  laid  on  his  shoulder,  first  lightly, 
then  more  heavily.  MacDaly  started  up  on  his 
bed,  bathed  in  perspiration  and  trembling  violently. 
A  tongue  of  flame  leaping  up  from  the  dull  fire 
showed  him  a  brown  face  that  in  his  first  confusion 
he  imagined  must  belong  to  some  evil  spirit  that  had 
been  sent  for  him. 

He  muttered,  "Not  ready,  spirit,"  put  up  a 
frantic  prayer  for  protection,  and  clutching  at  his 
bedclothes  as  if  they  would  be  an  anchor  to  hold 


206 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


^n»' 


him  to  earth,  shrunk  into  as  small  a  space  as  pos- 
sible. 

His  visitor  was  Joe  the  Indian,  who  grinned  in 
delight  at  MacDaly's  terror.  "Gunnel  sendum," 
he  said  in  a  sepulchral  voice,  and  slipping  some- 
thing that  rustled  under  MacDaly's  chin,  as  he 
found  it  impossible  to  lay  hold  of  his  hand,  he 
withdrew  as  silently  as  he  had  come. 

MacDaly's  terror  was  over.  Springing  up,  he 
poked  the  fire,  looked  at  the  denomination  of  his 
bill,  and  then  proceeded  to  caper  around  the  room 
on  the  tips  of  his  toes. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


WARM    FRIENDS 


WHEN  MacDaly  recovered  from  the  effect  of 
his  joy  over  Colonel  Armour's  gift  he  mut- 
tered to  himself:  "Now  for  something  to  satisfy, 
regale,  and  otherwise  gladden  the  inner  man." 

Of  >  ning  the  door  of  a  small  closet  in  his  room 
he  looked  on  an  upper  shelf,  where  he  found  noth- 
ing but  a  few  crumbs  on  empty  dishes,  and  a  huge 
black  teapot  standing  with  its  protruding  nose 
toward  him. 

Clutching  the  teapot  with  both  hands  he  pro- 
ceeded toward  the  restaurant  piously  murmuring  : 
**  Pray,  kind  and  beneficent  spirits  of  light,  vouch- 
safe unto  Mary  a  quiet  and  peaceable  condition, 
that  she  may  in  all  honor  and  excellency  of  enter- 
tainment receive  a  poor  wayfarer." 

Mary  was  in  an  excellent  temper,  MacDaly  was 
happy  to  observe  through  the  kitchen  window  of 
the  eating  house.  Knocking  delicately  at  the  door, 
he  advanced  with  a  mincing  step  into  the  room ; 
then  bowing  low,  cap  in  hand,  and  placing  his 
mammoth  teapot  on  the  back  of  the  stove,  he 
modestly  took  a  seat  in  the  comer. 

207 


H 


:    J.    '     "I 


.1    . 

(    '    , 


in 


)  I  '( 


y.l 


i,'i 


!■■'  , 


^;fb 


208 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


Mary  was  dandling  a  baby  on  her  knee  and  took 
no  notice  of  him,  and  though  remarks  were  fairly 
bursting  from  his  lips  he  thought  it  more  prudent 
to  restrain  them.  Presently  the  owner  of  the  baby, 
who  was  also  the  superintendent  of  the  eating  house, 
came  bustling  into  the  room. 

"  You  here,  MacDaly  ? "  she  said  brusquely  ; 
"how  is  that?" 

"  Good-evening  to  your  ladyship,"  he  said,  get- 
ting up  and  bowing  profoundly.  "As  I  sat  in  my 
lonely  domicile  or  dwelling  and  observed  the  cheer- 
ful light  streaming  from  this  mansion  and  abode  of 
pleasure,  I  said  to  myself,  '  Perchance  they  will  find 
it  in  the  goodness  of  their  amiable  hearts  to  allow 
me  to  take  my  humble  refreshment  under  the  shel- 
ter of  their  kindly  roof,  and  in  the  solacement  of 
their  excellent  presence,  and " 

"  That  will  do,  MacDaly,"  interrupted  the  super- 
intendent;  "where  is  your  tea?"  and  lifting  the 
cover  she  gazed  into  the  black,  yawning  depths  of 
his  teapot. 

"Truth  to  tell,  I  did  not  bring  any,  lady,"  he  said 
subserviently.  "  I  thought  for  a  single  occasion  I 
could  do  without  the  liquid  refreshment  in  my  en- 
joyment and  appreciation  of  the  solids." 

"And  where  are  the  solids?  "  she  asked,  looking 
sharply  about  her.  "Now  MacDaly,  you  know 
the  arrangement  is  that  you  cater  for  yourself  We 
are  not  rich  people  at  the  Pavilion,  and  if  we  give 


H 


WARM    FRIENDS 


209 


id  took 
e  fairly 
)rudent 
e  baby, 
;  house, 

squely ; 

id,  get- 
t  in  my 
;  cheer- 
)ode  of 
dll  find 
o  allow 
le  shel- 
ent  of 

super- 
ng  the 
5ths  of 

le  said 
Lsion  I 
ny  en- 

)oking 
know 
We 
give 


I 


you  a  room,  and  a  fire,  and  bedclothing,  it  is  all 
you  should  require  of  us.  There  are  poor  crea- 
tures worse  off  than  you  that  we  are  bound  to  help. 
For  this  once  I'll  put  some  tea  in  your  teapot. 
Now  produce  your  bread  and  butter." 

"  Madam,  beloved  lady,  neither  has  your  humble 
servant  any  of  the  staff  of  life  nor  of  its  trimmings." 

"  Mary,  give  me  the  baby,  and  cut  him  some 
bread  and  spread  it  thin,"  said  the  superintendent 
in  quiet  despair. 

"  Most  high-minded  and  condescending  lady," 
exclaimed  MacDaly,  in  a  burst  of  ostentatious  gen- 
erosity, "  I  will  pay  you  nobly  for  your  entertain- 
ment If  you  or  your  worthy  and  estimable  help- 
mate,  Mary,  could   change  this  money "  and 

bowing  elegantly  he  held  out  to  her  the  bill  that  he 
had  just  received. 

She  pounced  upon  it  "  Ten  dollars  !  Derrick 
MacDaly,  where  did  you  get  this  ?  " 

He  informed  her  that  it  was  a  present 

"Now,  ril  not  believe  that,"  she  said  firmly, 
"till  you  tell  me  where  it  came  from." 

In  great  dejection  of  spirit  at  the  conceit  which 
had  made  him  show  his  gift  to  her,  he  mentioned 
Colonel  Armour's  name. 

"  It  was  kind  in  him  to  give  it  to  you,"  said  the 
matron  quietly  pocketing  it ;  "  and  I  am  sure  he 
expected  you  to  make  good  use  of  it  I  shall  give 
it  to  Miss  Turner  to  buy  you  some  new  clothes." 

o 


II 


2IO 


THE    HOUSE    OF   ARMOUR 


m  ^^ 


c^;: 


►•,>(i 


MacDaly  immediately  went  down  upon  his  knees, 
begging  and  praying  her  to  restore  the  money  to 
him. 

"  I  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  she  said.  "  You 
would  drink  it  away ;  and  if  I  buy  you  clothes 
you'll  keep  them ;  for  that  much  may  be  said  in 
your  favor,  MacDaly,  however  drunk  you  are,  you 
never  allow  anyone  to  cheat  you  out  of  your  cloth- 
ing.    Get  up  and  take  your  food." 

MacDaly  ate  the  bread  and  drank  the  waters  of 
affliction  that  evening.  He  would  not  be  able  to 
go  to  town  again  the  next  day  and  have  a  jollifica- 
tion as  he  had  planned  to  do,  and  with  melancholy 
tears  dropping  down  his  cheeks,  he  sat  watching 
Mary  tidy  her  kitchen  and  afterward  put  on  her  hat 
and  jacket  to  go  for  a  stroll  with  her  soldier  lover, 
who  was  waiting  for  her  by  the  Pavilion  entrance. 

Later  on  he  was  sent  for  to  go  and  see  Star- 
garde.     He  found  her  busy  with  a  heap  of  sewing. 

"Good-evening,  MacDaly,"  she  said  kindly. 
"  Did  you  deliver  my  note  ?  " 

"Yes,  gracious  lady,"  he  responded  mournfully ; 
then  he  proceeded  to  give  her  an  account  of  the 
afflicting  manner  in  which  he  had  been  treated  by 
one  of  her  deputies. 

Stargarde  was  listening  indulgently  and  atten- 
tively when  he  suddenly  paused  and  began  to  fidget 
with  his  hat. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  she  asked. 


r  -1 


m  :* 


WARM    FRIENDS 


211 


<< 


'Tis  the  foreign  and  unlooked-for  young  lady," 
he  said,  pointing  to  the  inner  room.  "  If  it  is  not 
unbecoming,  may  your  humble  servant  ask  where- 
fore and  whence  does  she  come?" 

"Vivienne,"  called  Stargarde ;  "come  here, 
dear." 

The  girl  sauntered  out  with  a  book  in  hand, 
whereupon  MacDaly  fell  into  a  state  of  great  agita- 
tion. Vivienne  surveyed  him  curiously,  and  Star- 
garde  laid  down  her  work.  "  MacDaly,  did  you 
know  this  young  lady's  father?" 

*'  Yes,  complacent  lady,  yes,"  he  murmured. 

*'Did  you?"  said  Vivienne  eagerly.  "Star- 
garde,  may  I  ask  him  some  questions?" 

"Certainly,  dear." 

Vivienne  sat  down  near  the  bewildered  man  who 
was  spinning  his  hat  through  his  hands  like  a  teeto- 
tum. "Yes,  yes,"  he  ejaculated;  "I  knew  him. 
A  beautiful  gentleman  he  was  ;  never  gave  me  the 
cross  word.  It  was  a  sad  grief  to  the  colonel  to 
lose  him — a  sad  grief" 

"  Were  you  here  when  my  father  died  ?  "  asked 
Vivienne  softly. 

Stargarde  gazed  at  her  in  deep  anxiety  while 
MacDaly  gabbled  on,  "  When  he  died,  my  dear — I 
mean  my  revered  young  lady — oh  yes,  I  was  here ; 
he  is  dead — of  course  not  being  alive  and  present 
is  to  be  dead  and  buried,  otherwise  interred  and 
sepulchred." 


212 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


';«: 


W;ii;j;    I. 


.'  'ji 


m- 


:  , 


"Vivienne,"  said  Stargarde  in  a  pained  voice, 
"your  father  did  not  die  here." 

"Did  he  not?"  said  the  girl;  "I  thought  that 
both  he  and  my  mother  did,  and  that  they  were 
sent  to  their  French  home  to  be  buried." 

"No,"  said  Stargarde,  "your  mother  died  in 
the  French  village ;  I  do  not  know  where  your 
father's  body  lies.  MacDaly,  I  think  that  you  had 
better  go  home." 

"May  I  not  just  ask  him  a  few  things  more?  " 
said  Vivienne  pleadingly.  "  I  want  to  know 
whether  he  remembers  my  father  when  he  first 
came  here." 

"  Do  you,  MacDaly  ?  "  asked  Stargarde. 

"  Perfectly  and  most  harmoniously ;  a  youth 
fitted  in  every  way  to  attract  and  embosom  in  him- 
self the  affections  of  the  master  who,  progressing 
at  a  nimble  pace  through  a  settlement  inhabited  by 
the  curious  people  known  as  the  French,  thrusts 
his  white  hand  in  the  gutter  and  picks  out  the 
treasure-trove,  enunciating  and  proclaiming  with 
his  accustomed  clearness,  'What*  11  you  take  for 
him?'  throws  the  money  and  brings  him  home 
and  his  fortune's  made.  Stamp-licker,  office  lad, 
confidential  man,  and  keeper  of  the  rolls  to  the 
master,  and  to  top,  crown,  and  in  every  way  orna- 
ment his  bliss,  joins  himself  in  joyful  matrimony 
and  dwells  in  peaceful  and  well-to-do  habitation 
with  his  greatly-esteemed  spouse,  while  at  the  same 


WARM    FRIENDS 


213 


time  some  of  us  poor  lads  had  nothing  but  a  hut 
and  a  housekeeper,"  and  concluding  his  long  sen- 
tence with  a  groan  MacDaly  looked  with  a  dull  and 
melancholy  eye  about  him. 

"  I  don't  understand  him,"  said  Vivienne  with 
a  puzzled  gesture. 

Stargarde  was  hanging  her  beautiful  head  in  a 
way  unusual  with  her.  *•  He  refers  to  your  father," 
she  said,  "and  to  the  manner  in  which  Colonel 
Armour  became  acquainted  with  him." 

•*  Oh  I  know  that,"  said  Vivienne.  "Colonel 
Armour  was  having  a  driving  tour  through  the 
province  and  seeing  a  pretty  orphan  boy  that  he 
thought  would  make  a  good  pet  he  paid  some 
money  to  the  people  who  took  care  of  him  so  that 
they  would  give  him  up." 

"  Yes,"  said  Stargarde. 

Vivienne  gazed  at  the  half-witted  specimen  of 
humcinity  before  her  in  silence.  Then  she  said, 
"I  will  not  detain  you  any  longer.  Perhaps  I 
will  see  you  again  some  day." 

Without  his  usual  politeness  MacDaly  darted  from 
the  room  as  if  he  had  been  held  there  a  prisoner. 

"I  wished  to  talk  more  to  him,"  said  Vivienne  ; 
"  but  I  saw  that  you  did  not  care  for  it,  Stargarde." 

"  Come  here,  darling,  and  sit  on  this  stool  by  me," 
said  her  friend  as  soothingly  as  if  she  were  talking 
to  a  child ;  "  I  am  so  glad  to  find  this  interest  in 
your  parents  in  you,  and  yet,  and  yet " 


fry 


ilv. 


i  :  f 


Itl 


I*'" 


t: 


hi 


1.  •!  /S  i 

i  «.■'■  !1  V'  !' 


■■d        \ 


214 


THE   HOUSE  OF  ARMOUR 


"  And  yet — ^what  ?  "   queried  Vivienne. 

"I  wish  that  you  had  chosen  to  speak  to  me 
first  rather  than  to  MacDaly." 

*'This  was  an  impulse,"  said  Vivienne.  "  I  have 
always  intended  to  ask  you  some  questions ;  but 
we  are  so  seldom  alone — and  though  my  father  and 
mother  are  much  in  my  thoughts  I  dread  to  mention 
their  names.     Can  you  understand  ?  " 

Stargarde  replied  by  a  pressure  of  her  hand. 

*'  They  are  sacred  to  me,"  said  Vivienne  dream- 
ily. **  I  would  not  for  the  world  have  the  Armours 
know  that  I  often  wake  up  sobbing  because  my 
parents  have  been  taken  from  me.  You  know  I 
am  supposed  to  be  a  proud  person,"  and  she  looked 
up  at  Stargarde,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"You  are  not  proud — that  is,  not  too  proud," 
said  Stargarde  warmly.  "You  are  an  ardent, 
generous  girl,  with  a  heart  full  of  love  that  will  be 
bestowed  on  your  fellow-creatures." 

Vivienne  suddenly  put  her  hands  to  her  face. 
"O  Stargarde,  Stargarde,"  she  exclaimed,  "how 
shall  I  tell  Captain  Macartney  that  I  cannot  marry 
him?     And  Mr.  Armour,  what  will  he  say?" 

"Do  not  afflict  yourself  too  much.  You  have 
made  a  mistake,  as  many  another  girl  has  done. 
The  only  way  to  make  amends  is  to  say,  I  have 
done  wrong — forgive  me.  Then  start  over  again. 
That  is  all  any  of  us  can  do  in  the  perpetual  error 
oi  this  life." 


WARM    FRIENDS 


215 


Vivienne  looked  up  over  her  shoulder  and 
pressed  one  of  Stargarde's  hands  adoringly  to  her 
lips.  They  had  slipped  into  their  usual  relation. 
The  girl  was  sitting  at  the  feet  of  the  woman  she 
so  much  loved.  She  was  curled  up  on  the  hearth 
rug,  her  red  draperies  wound  around  her,  her  back 
against  Stargarde's  knees. 

'*  Let  us  return  to  my  question,"  said  Vivienne 
at  length,  "my  parents.  Will  you  not  tell  me 
what  you  know  about  them?  Was  my  father," 
proudly,  "as  became  his  peasant  up-bringing,  a 
boorish  man,  or  was  he  a  gentleman  ?  " 

"The  latter,  I  think,  from  what  I  have  heard  ; 
you  know  I  never  saw  him.  He  is  said  to  have 
been  a  gentle,  amiable  young  man,  a  favorite  with 
all  who  knew  him." 

"And  what  made  him  leave  the  Armours?  I 
have  always  fancied  that  it  was  his  health." 

"  No,  it  was  not  his  health,"  said  Stargarde  re- 
luctantly. 

"What  was  it?  "  asked  Vivienne  wistfully. 

"  My  dear  child,  you  have  confidence  in  me  ?  " 

"  Most  implicit  confidence." 

"  Then  take  my  advice  ;  go  to  Stanton  Armour. 
He  knows  more  about  your  parents  than  any  man 
living.  He  will  tell  you  just  what  is  good  for  you 
to  know.     Will  you  do  this?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Vivienne,  in  a  constrained  voice. 
"But  you  speak  as  if  there  were  some  mystery. 


it 


3^ 


2l6 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


Surely  there  is  nothing  that  all  the  world  may  not 
know?"  Stargarde  looked  down  at  her  compas- 
sionately. "  Sometimes,"  said  Vivienne,  struggling 
with  an  emotion  that  she  uld  not  altogether  hide, 
"  sometimes  I  fancy  that  there  is  something  I  do 
not  understand.  Judy  once  gave  me  a  hint  of  it. 
Mammy  Juniper  in  her  ravings  urges  the  wicked 
Ephraim  to  make  restitution  to  some  one  that  I 
think  is  my  father.  Do  you  know  what  she  means, 
Stargarde  ?  *' 

**  Go  to  Stanton,"  said  her  friend,  with  a  lovely 
smile  of  pity  and  affection.  Then  leaning  forward 
till  Vivienne  felt  her  sweet  breath  on  her  face 
added,  "You  need  comforting ;  let  me  rock  you." 

She  held  out  her  arms  invitingly,  and  half  laugh- 
ing, half  protesting  Vivienne  found  herself,  dignity 
and  all,  enwrapped  in  a  close  embrace.  Stargarde 
had  her  on  her  lap  and  was  rocking  back  and 
forth,  soothing  her  as  a  mother  would  a  child. 

To  and  fro  they  went,  the  one  slim  and  graceful, 
with  dark  skin,  brilliant  and  questioning  eyes,  and 
black  hair  lying  loosely  on  her  forehead,  the  other 
a  Venus  of  Milo,  who  held  her  burden,  tall  as  it 
was,  as  easily  as  she  would  have  held  a  baby. 

The  soreness  and  tightness  ^bout  Vivienne's 
heart  gave  away,  and  burying  her  face  on  Star- 
garde's  shoulder  she  shed  a  few  surreptitious  tears. 

"That's  right ;  it  will  do  you  good  to  cry,"  mur- 
mured Stargarde. 


sl 


WARM    FRIENDS 


217 


n 


tt 


"There  is  some  one  at  the  door,"  said  Vivienne 
presently.     "  Let  me  get  up,  dear  Stargarde.'* 

It's  only  Mary  with  the  milk  ;  come  in,  Mary." 
It's  not  Mary,"  said  a  well-known  voice.  "  Beg 
pardon  for  interrupting  so  charming  a  tableau.  You 
missed  that,  Armour,"  and  Dr.  Camperdown  turned 
to  his  friend,  who  was  following  him. 

"  Not  altogether,"  said  Mr.  Armour,  with  a  swift 
glance  at  Stargarde's  amused  face  and  Vivienne's 
flushed  one. 

"What  an  unexpected  honor!"  said  Stargarde, 
gayly  shaking  hands  with  them.  "You,"  looking 
at  Armour,  "  rarely  honor  us  with  a  visit." 

"And  I  come  too  often,  I  suppose,"  said  Cam- 
perdown gruffly.  "  Take  off  your  coat,  Armour ; 
we'll  stay  a  little  while." 


CHAPTER  XIX 


BROTHER   AND   SISTER 


h: 


I  m  I 


'jt . 


1  i 


mi  I 


ARMOUR,  after  hanging  up  his  coat,  sat  down 
in  a  corner  of  the  little  room. 

"  You  don't  often  come  to  town  in  the  evening, 
Stanton,"  said  Stargarde. 

"No;  I  had  to  see  some  merchants  who  are 
going  away  early  in  the  morning.  The  sleigh  was 
sent  in  for  me,  so  I  thought  I  would  call  for  you 
and  Miss  Delavigne." 

"Are  you  going  out  to  Pinewood?  "  asked  Dr. 
Camperdown  of  his  hostess. 

"  Yes ;  to  spend  the  night  and  a  part  of  to- 
morrow." 

"  It  will  do  you  good,"  he  returned ;  "  I  suppose 
you  are  sorry  to  have  her  go,  Miss  Delavigne  ?  " 

"  More  sorry  than  I  can  tell  you,"  said  Vivienne. 

"  You  saucy  little  girl ! "  and  he  frowned  omi- 
nously at  her.  Then  in  a  lower  key,  and  making 
sure  that  Stargarde  and  Mr.  Armour  were  deep  in 
conversation,  "  Has  she  been  talking  to  you?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  of  many  things." 

"  Good  ;  let  her  advise  you.    What  do  you  think 
of  her?" 
218 


BROTHER   AND   SISTER 


219 


"  I — I  think  that  she  is  magnificent,"  said  Vivi- 
enne,  trying  to  speak  calmly. 

"Better  still,"  said  the  physician  in  deep  satis- 
faction. "  Be  with  her  all  you  can  ;  she's  a  rock 
for  strength  and  an  angel  for  sweetness." 

"  Vivienne,"  said  Stargarde,  *'  Stanton  wishes  to 
go  ;  are  you  ready?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  rising  and  going  for  her  wraps. 

"Don't  drive  home,"  said  Camperdown  a  few 
minutes  later,  when  they  stood  looking  at  the 
heaped-up  rugs  in  the  sleigh  standing  before  the 
door,  "There's  no  room  for  me,  anyway.  Let's 
walk.  It's  a  fine  night  Look  at  the  stars  and  the 
moon,"  and  he  pointed  up  to  the  blue  vault  of  the 
sky. 

"Are  we  not  going  to  be  rid  of  you  yet,  Brian?'' 
said  Stargarde,  with  a  comical  face. 

"A  medical  man  does  not  desert  his  patients. 
I've  two  to  see  home.  Stanton,  I  forbid  your  driv- 
ing. A  walk  will  make  you  sleep  better.  Take 
Miss  Delavigne  on  ahead  of  us.  If  you  go  too  fast 
I'll  say  that  you  are  trying  to  outwit  me.  Now 
one,  two,  three,  and  away.    Send  your  man  home." 

"  Not  till  I  find  out  whether  these  ladies  prefer 
to  walk,"  said  Mr.  Armour. 

"  Of  course  they  do.     I  asked  them." 

"  Oh,  well,  if  it  is  arranged  "—and  turning  to  the 
sleigh  he  said  to  the  coachman,  "  We  shall  walk ; 
do  not  wait  for  us." 


220 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


ni' 


,•■!■! 


;. ,     ! 


m 


mi 


Vivienne  glanced  at  Armour's  face  as  they  went 
under  the  gateway.  She  wished  to  know  if  he  was 
annoyed  at  Dr.  Camperdown's  persistence  in  giving 
them  the  long  walk  out  to  Pinewood,  and  so  coolly 
foisting  her  upon  him  as  a  companion,  when  he 
would  so  much  rather  have  had  Stargarde. 

He  did  not  seem  annoyed.  There  was  even,  she 
fancied,  a  look  of  cold,  placid  satisfaction  on  his 
face  as  he  walked  along  soberly  by  her  side,  his 
hands  in  the  pockets  of  his  coat,  his  head  bent 
slightly  forward.  However,  he  did  not  speak  to 
her,  and  seemed  to  be  in  one  of  his  usual  reveries, 
or  listening  to  the  conversation  of  Stargarde  and 
Camperdown,  who  were  close  behind  them. 

Passing  quietly  by  one  door  after  another  they 
came  suddenly  upon  MacDaly,  who  was  sneaking 
guiltily  away  from  home. 

Armour  and  Vivienne  passed  him,  Camperdown 
stared  at  him  without  speaking,  but  Stargarde  drew 
up  before  him  with  a  pained  and  remonstrating, 
"Why,  MacDaly,  I  thought  you  were  in  your 
room?" 

MacDaly  was  too  much  overcome  to  speak,  but 
he  seemed  to  be  touched  by  the  dis!;ress  of  the  only 
person  in  the  world  that  he  cared  for  besides  his 
own  unworthy  self,  and  bowing  low  he  laid  a  bottle 
at  her  feet 

Camperdown  promptly  broke  the  neck  of  the 
bottle  and  threw  it  in  the  gutter,  and  calling  to 


BROTHER   AND   SISTER 


221 


Vivienne  and  Armour  not  to  wait,  he  and  Star- 
garde  retraced  their  footsteps  in  order  that  they 
might  see  the  wandering  lamb  safely  within  the 
shelter  of  the  Pavilion. 

Vivienne  looked  at  Mr.  Armour,  who  was  gazing 
fixedly  at  her.  **  Stargarde  is  an  ideal  woman  ;  I 
did  not  think  that  in  real  life  there  were  any  like 
her." 

"  Her  moral  character  is  one  of  great  beauty," 
he  said,  ••  and  she  is  utterly  fearless ;  yet  what  is 
the  use  ?  " 

"The  use?"  repeated  Vivienne  with  vivacity; 
"  has  she  not  stopped  ivIacDaly  from  spending  the 
night  in  some  saloon  ?  " 

"  For  to-night,  yes ;  for  to-morrow,  no.  He  is 
an  inveterate  drunkard." 

"  But  he  promises  her  to  do  better.  He  may  re- 
form some  day." 

"  How  can  he  reform  when  inherited  tendencies 
are  crying  out  in  an  opposite  direction  ?  " 

"Stargarde  does  not  believe  in  heredity,"  said 
Vivienne. 

"  She  does,  but  to  a  limited  degree  only.  That 
is  where  she  makes  a  mistake.  Yet  in  her  case 
every  theory  with  regard  to  heredity  has  been 
thrown  to  the  winds.  One  might  almost  say  she 
was  bom  damned."  Vivienne  looked  him  severely 
in  the  face.  "  I  have  shocked  you,"  he  said  irrita- 
bly.    "Yet  if  you  knew  everything " 


222 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


I'l: 


,.i! 


If: 

f>4 «' 


•'Stargarde  says,"  began  Vivienne,  "that  one 
should  look  after  little  children,  give  them  good 
food  and  wholesome  surroundings,  and  God  will 
take  care  of  the  rest." 

"What  about  the  ancestors ? "  he  said.  "Chil- 
dren are  helpless  there,  and  that  is  where  the  mis- 
chief comes  in.  I  wish  I  had  had  the  choosing  of 
mine,"  he  added  under  his  breath.  "  I  should 
have  been  a  happier  man." 

A  swift  and  intense  compassion  took  possession 
of  Vivienne,  which,  though  she  gave  no  expression 
to  it,  he  seemed  to  understand  perfectly  and  to 
slightly  resent. 

"  I  am  not  so  unhappy  as  you  imagine,"  he  ob- 
served, "  and  I  beg  your  pardon  for  talking  to  you 
so  freely ;  I  don't  know  why  I  do  it." 

His  tone  was  as  sulky  as  that  of  a  boy,  and  Vivi- 
enne wisely  forebore  to  answer  him.  For  a  long 
time  they  walked  on  without  speaking ;  then  to  break 
the  awkward  silence  she  said,  "  Stargarde  has  saved 
many  children." 

Mr.  Armour  smiled  faintly.  "You  are  coming 
under  her  influence  ;  if  it  weren't  for  your  engage- 
ment I  daresay  you  would  make  a  Stargarde  the 
second." 

"I  am  going  to  break  my  engagement,"  said 
Vivienne  quickly.      "Mr.  Armour,  I  cannot " 

He  stopped  short  and  looked  down  at  her. 
"What  is  this?" 


I>«rt.'/**> 


BROTHER   AND  SISTER 


223 


lat  one 
n  good 
rod  will 

"  Chil- 
he  mis- 
using of 

should 

ssession 
)ression 
and  to 

he  ob- 
to  you 

d  Vivi- 
a  long 
)  break 
3  saved 

oming 
ngage- 
de  the 

'  said 

if 

her. 


"Stargarde  has  been  talking  to  me — she  told 
me  to  explain  to  you.  There  were  some  things 
that  I  did  not  understand ;  and  I  think  with  her 
that  one  should  love  deeply  the  person  that  one 
marries." 

Mr.  Armour  concealed  his  astonishment.  There 
was  about  the  girl  at  his  side  a  gentleness  and  frank- 
ness that  always  enveloped  her  like  an  atmosphere 
when  she  was  fresh  from  Stargarde's  influence.  He 
could  not  speak  harshly  to  her,  yet  he  was  annoyed. 

**I  think,"  he  said  gravely,  "that  you  had  better 
give  this  matter  some  further  thought.  There  is  a 
precipitancy  about  your  entering  into  engagements 
and  breaking  them  that  I  do  not  like." 

"Don't  you  understand  ?  "  she  said,  with  an  eager 
little  gesture.  "  It  is  this  way  :  You  have  a  calm 
and  clear  judgment,  and  much  experience.  You 
form  your  opinions  slowly.  I  am  young  and  rash, 
and,  as  Stargarde  says,  I  have  made  a  mistake  that 
many  another  woman  has  made.  It  is  a  good  thing 
to  be  married,  but  I  did  not  think  long  enough  about 
the  suitability  of,  of " 

"Of  Captain  Macartney,  I  suppose,"  said  Mr. 
Armour  dryly.  "  What  will  he  say  to  this  abrupt 
dismissal  ?  " 

"He  will  understand,"  said  Vivienne;  "he  is 
good  and  kind.  I  do  not  dread  telling  him  half  as 
much  as,  as — ^you  might  fancy  I  would." 

Mr.  Armour  noted   her  confusion  of  thought. 


•: 


fi  , 


I'M 


I 


1^'}< 


224 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  Or  half  as  much  as  you  dreaded  telling  me,"  he 
said  ;  "  am  I  right  ?  " 

"You  are,"  said  Vivienne  vivaciously;  "yet,  if  I 
may  say  a  word  in  my  own  defense,  it  is  that  my 
haste  in  entering  into  this  engagement  was  to  please 
you." 

"  Indeed,"  curtly ;  "  then  I  am  to  be  made  the 
scapegoat?" 

Vivienne  was  wounded  by  his  tone,  and  made  no 
reply  to  him. 

"  And  what  are  your  plans  for  the  future,  may  I 
ask?" 

"Stargarde  wishes  me  to  live  with  her." 

"You  will  get  tired  of  that  life  in  a  week." 

"Then  I  will  do  something  else,"  bravely  ;  "but 
I  really  think  that  you  are  mistaken  in  me." 

"  I  am  not  mistaken  in  thinking  you  are  an  irre- 
pressible worry,"  he  communed  with  himself,  just 
as  Vivienne  said, 

"  May  I  ask  just  how  much  control  you  exercise 
over  my  movements  ?  " 

Armour  stared  at  her.      "What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"When  shall  I  become  mistress  of  my  own 
affairs?" 

"  Your  own  affairs,"  he  said,  with  an  involuntary 
smile.  "  Well,  I  should  say  that  you  were  manag- 
ing them  yourself  just  now." 

"  I  do  not  think  that  you  understand  me.  You 
or  your  father  was  legally  appointed  my  guardian." 


BROTHER   AND   SISTER 


225 


ne,"  he 

yet,  if  I 
hat  my 
'J  please 

\de  the 

lade  no 

may  I 


If 


;  "but 

m  irre- 
f,  just 

cercise 

L-an  ?  " 
own 

mtary 
lanag- 

You 
lian." 


"  There  was  no  legal  appointment,"  he  said,  push- 
ing his  fur  cap  farther  back  on  his  head.  "We  took 
charge  of  you  on  our  own  responsibility." 

"  But  my  father — when  he  died  did  he  not  ask 
you  to  take  charge  of  my  money  and  educate  me?" 

"What  money?"  and  Mr.  Armour's  eyes  grew 
colder  as  he  fixed  them  on  her. 

"Whatever  my  father  left  me,"  said  Vivienne 
patiently.  "  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,  except 
that  it  is  safe  in  your  hands,  and  that  I  want  to  give 
some  of  it  to  Stargarde  if  I  go  to  live  with  her." 

Mr.  Armour's  gaze  wandered  all  about  him  before 
he  answered  her.  Then  he  said  quietly  :  "  Where 
would  your  father — a  clerk  on  a  salary — accumulate 
money  to  leave  you  ?  " 

"  Put  what  have  I  been  living  on?  "  said  Vivienne 
in  surprise. 

"  I  leave  that  to  your  imagination." 

"  Have  you  been  supporting  me  all  these  years?" 
she  asked,  her  face  suffused  with  color. 

"  Again  I  reply  that  I  leave  that  to  your  imagi- 
nation," he  said,  t^\isting  an  icicle  off  a  window  that 
tiiey  were  passing. 

She  stopped  suddenly  and  covered  her  eyes  v^ith 
her  hands.  Mr.  Armour  scanned  her  narrowly. 
Was  she  trying  to  impress  him  ?  No  ;  her  emotion 
was  genuine.  Her  gloved  fingers,  held  like  bars 
over  her  crimson,  almost  purple  cheeks,  were  out- 
ward and  mute  signs  of  inward  suffering. 


226 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


L'i'i  I 


I 


it 


**  I  would  have  undeceived  you  if  I  had  known 
of  this  delusion  of  yours,"  he  said  kindly. 

"Do  I  owe  you  everything — everything?"  said 
the  girl,  dropping  her  hands  and  fixing  her  glitter- 
ing eyes  on  him. 

He  bowed  gravely. 

"  And  you  have  thought  me  extravagant,  I  dare 
say." 

"  That  is  hardly  a  fair  question,"  he  said,  with  an 
approving  glance  at  her  fur-lined  jacket  and  richly 
trimmed  gown.  "  wished  you  to  dress  like  a 
lady." 

"A  lady  !"  repeated  the  girl  bitterly,  "yes  ;  a  fine 
lady.     Now  I  shall  have  to  support  myself." 

"Why  so?" 

"  I  am  grown  up  now.  You  have  given  me  a 
good  education.  I  shall  take  no  more  favors  from 
you." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  I  am  too  proud  to  be  dependent" 

"That  is  exactly  why  you  should  go  on  with 
your  dependence.  What  can  you  do  to  support 
yourself?  " 

"  If  I  cannot  support  myself  by  assisting  Star- 
garde,  I  will  teach." 

"  What  can  you  teach  ?  " 

"  Everything  that  I  have  been  taught." 

"  Pardon  me — a  smattering  of  everything.  You 
have  received  an  ordinary  boarding-school  educa- 


J 


■*^? 


BROTHER    AND   SISTER 


227 


tion,  which  is  about  the  worst  possible  preparation 
for  a  teaching  career.  If  I  had  intended  you  to 
teach  I  would  have  put  you  in  a  public  school  or  a 
college." 

Vivienne  looked  steadfastly  at  him  without  speak- 
ing. 

"  Be  content  to  do  as  I  tell  you,"  he  said,  walk- 
ing on  and  clasping  his  hands  behind  his  back. 
"Your  father  served  us  well.  As  a  lad  I  worshiped 
him.  I  plan  to  support  you  until  the  day  of  your 
death.  If  I  die  first,  suitable  provision  will  be  made 
for  you.  As  I  told  you  I  want  you  to  remain  at 
Pinewood  for  a  time.  Then  you  may  go  where  you 
will.  You  are  getting  on  well  now.  I  detest  those 
scenes  that  Flora  delights  in  ;  you  women  know 
how  to  put  a  stop  to  such  things,  and  I  am  glad 
that  you  have  done  so.  I  am  glad  too  that  Judy 
likes  you — she  leads  a  lonely  life." 

Vivienne  was  not  listening  to  him.  To  his  sur- 
prise he  found  that  she  had  dropped  behind  him 
and  had  struck  an  attitude  of  distress  against  a  snow- 
bank. 

"She  looks  like  the  picture  of  her  ancestress, 
Madame  La  Tour,  defending  her  husband's  fort,"  he 
muttered,  hastening  back  to  her. 

"I  am  not  faint,"  said  Vivienne  feebly.  "I  am 
coming  right  on  ;  but  I  have  had  a  blow — ^such  a 
blow,  but"— proudly — "you  will  not  see  me  break 
down  again." 


V'<I8 


N 


../I  I 


'i   1 


'hi  i  I    ! 


228 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


She  spoke  with  a  remnant  of  her  old  spirit,  and 
Armour  smiled  encouragingly  at  her.  •*  Take  my 
arm,  you  foolish  child.  You  have  not  broken  down. 
Now  let  us  set  out  again,  and  have  no  further  inter- 
ruptions. See,  there  are  some  people  coming — 
friends  of  ours  too,  I  believe.  Try  to  get  some 
color  in  your  face." 

Vivienne  held  her  head  well  up  till  they  had 
passed,  then  it  sank  on  her  breast  again.  Armour 
glanced  at  the  little,  clenched  hand  that  lay  on  his 
arm  and  said  gently  and  yet  a  trifle  disdainfully : 

"  Do  not  imagine  that  you  are  suffering." 

"  I  do  not  imagine  it.     I  know  that  I  am." 

"Your  disfTirbance  is  purely  a  thing  of  senti- 
ment," he  said.  *•  I  do  not  say  that  you  are  not 
troubled — I  dare  say  you  are  ;  but  you  will  get  over 
it.  You  are  young ;  you  do  not  know  the  meaning 
of  the  word  sorrow." 

"What  is  it  then  to  suffer?  "  she  asked. 

"To  suffer" — and  he  drew  a  long  breath  and 
cast  a  glance  about  him  like  one  taking  his  last  look 
on  earth  and  sky — "  ah,  I  will  not  tell  you." 

Vivienne  shuddered ;  in  the  midst  of  her  own 
preoccupation  she  realized  that  there  were  depths 
in  the  unhappy  nature  of  the  man  beside  her  that 
she  could  not  fathom,  even  if  she  were  allowed  to 
look  into  them. 

" Do  you  know  anything  of  astronomy?  "  asked 
Mr.  Armour  suddenly. 


I'  / 


BROTHER    AND    SISTER 


pirit,  and 
Take  my 
:en  down, 
her  inter- 
coming — 
get  some 

they  had 
Armour 
lay  on  his 
infuUy : 


229 


>i 


im. 

of  senti- 
are  not 
1  get  over 

meaning 


G 


1. 

•eath  and 
i  last  look 
J." 

her  own 
re  depths 

her  that 
lowed  to 

r'  asked 


**  No,  nothing,"  she  replied  ;  "  we  did  not  have 
it  in  any  of  the  schools  that  you  sent  me  to." 

He  paid  no  attention  to  the  sob  in  her  voice,  and 
in  tones  as  cool  and  passionless  as  if  there  were  no 
such  things  as  sorrow  and  unhappiness  in  the  world, 
he  pointed  out  some  of  the  constellations  to  her. 
In  a  short  time  they  were  beyond  the  outlying 
houses  of  the  city,  and  with  lagging  steps  and  up- 
turned faces  passed  slowly  along  a  snowy  road,  from 
which  they  had  an  extended  and  uninterrupted 
view  of  the  blue  sky  spread  above  them,  where 
countless  stars  shone  and  sparkled  like  priceless 
jewels,  set  far  above  the  unworthy  earth  below. 

"  I  used  to  devote  a  good  dv^al  of  my  time  to  the 
study  of  the  heavens,"  said  Mr.  Armour,  when  they 
stepped  slowly  under  the  murmuring  pines  of  the 
avenue,  and  their  view  of  the  sky  was  shut  off  "  I 
still  have  a  telescope  in  the  cupola,  and  occasionally 
I  go  up.     Do  you  ever  hear  me  ?  " 

Yes ;  she  had  heard  his  heavy  step  passing  her 
door,  often  late  at  night,  and  had  surmised  that 
the  strange,  self-contained  man,  who  was  such  an 
enigma  himself,  was  about  to  engage  in  a  study  of 
the  mysteries  of  the  celestial  bodies. 

"Star-gazing  ruined  Palinurus,"  interposed  Camp- 
erdown,  who  came  rolling  up  to  the  broad  stone 
doorstep,  looking  like  one  of  the  good-natured 
men-of-war  sailors  who  are  so  frequently  seen  about 
the  streets  of  Halifax. 


:   i     1 


: 


h.>. 


.11 


230 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


He  had  evidently  caught  some  scraps  of  their 
conversation,  for  he  went  on  :  "  See  the  ^neid, 
Book  v.,  line  something  or  other.  Palinurus  di- 
rected his  eyes  to  the  stars  ;  the  god  shook  over  him 
a  branch  dripping  with  Lethean  dew ;  and  rendered 
sleepy  by  Stygian  power,  over  he  went  into  the  clear 
waters.     Poor  Palinurus." 

*'  What  is  the  matter  with  Camperdown  this  even- 
ing," said  Armour,  addressing  Stargarde,  who  at  that 
moment  came  sauntering  out  from  under  the  pines. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  returned,  glancing  uneasily 
at  the  subject  of  their  remarks.  "  I  never  saw  him 
like  this  before.  His  tongue  rattled  so  fast  that  I 
had  to  send  him  on  ahead  in  order  that  I  might 
enjoy  the  quiet  beauty  of  this  evening." 

"  Hear  a  parable,  O  friends,"  said  Camperdown, 
without  raising  his  eyes,  and  scraping  the  snow 
about  with  his  foot.  "Once  a  certain  man  sat 
under  a  plum  tree,  where  he  looked  and  longed  ex- 
ceedingly for  a  beautiful  young  plum  that  hung 
just  over  him.  The  plum  grew  and  ripened,  but 
being  the  most  obstinate  plum  that  ever  lived, 
would  not  fall  into  the  man's  mouth.  One  day 
being  weak  with  impatience  and  with  waiting  for 
the  plum,  he  opened  his  mouth  to  yawn,  when 
straightway  the  plum  fell  into  his  mouth  and  choked 
him " 

"So  that  he  never  spoke  again,"  said  Stargarde, 
with  a  stifled  laugh. 


K  C  ' 


^<« 


I  ■•{- 


BROTHER    AND    SISTER 


231. 


1  of  their 

2  ^neid, 
nurus  di- 
over  him 
rendered 
the  clear 

this  even- 
ho  at  that 
:he  pines. 
;  uneasily 
■  saw  him 
1st  that  I 
;  I  might 

perdown, 
:he  snow 
man  sat 
nged  ex- 
lat  hung 
ned,  but 
tr  lived, 
Dne  day 
iting  for 
n,  when 
choked 

argarde, 


"No,"  said  Camperdown,  lifting  his  eyes  and 
surveying  her  with  preternatural  gravity  ;  ••  loosened 
his  tongue  and  gave  him  an  unwouccd  flow  of  lan- 
guage." 

" Good-night,  Camperdown,"  said  Armour;  "  I'm 
going  in." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Dr.  Camperdown  agreeably, 
**  as  far  as  the  pantry.  I'm  ravenous,  Stanton. 
Stargarde  offered  me  no  supper  this  evening.  Pity 
a  poor,  starving  man." 

•'  Come  in,"  said  Armour  shortly,  unlocking  the 
door  and  ushering  his  guests  into  the  hall,  which 
was  dimly  lighted.  "  Now,  Camperdown,  don't 
make  a  noise,  or  you'll  have  Flora  down  upon  us." 

"That  isn't  the  way  to  the  pantry,  man,"  said 
Camperdown,  pushing  him  aside.  "That's  the 
china  closet  It's  too  hot  there  to  keep  food. 
Here,  follow  me,"  and  taking  a  box  of  matches 
from  his  pocket  he  led  the  small  party — for  he  in- 
sisted upon  bringing  Stargarde  and  Vivienne  along 
— into  a  room  whose  shelves  were  lined  with  a 
goodly  supply  of  tempting  meats  and  dainties. 

"  Cold  goose  and  apple  sauce  ! "  he  ejaculated, 
setting  aside  a  large  dish.  "  You  mustn't  touch  that, 
ladies,  nor  you,  Stanton.  'Twill  give  you  indigestion. 
Mayonnaise  of  celery — I'll  have  some  of  that  with 
it  Here  is  some  jelly  for  you.  Miss  Delavigne — 
lemon,  I  think,  and  custard,  and  cake.  Stargarde, 
you  may  have  those  mashed  chestnuts.     Stanton, 


m 


1 1 


f- 1 


;if>  i  i 


!.! 


I  J 


ii 


i^:^    I 


232 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


you'd  better  try  a  soda  biscuit  Now  *  fall  to,'  as 
old  Hannah  says,  and  don't  make  a  noise." 

Vivienne  was  not  in  a  humor  for  frolicking,  and 
excusing  herself  went  upstairs,  her  hands  full  of 
pieces  of  sponge  cake  that  Dr.  Camperdown  had 
bidden  her  take  with  her.  When  she  reached  the 
staircase  leading  to  the  upper  flat,  she  found  that 
Mammy  Juniper  was,  as  Judy  graphically  expressed 
it,  "  on  a  prowl,"  and  had  started  it  by  one  of  her 
favorite  occupations,  laying  a  curse  on  Vivienne. 

The  old  woman's  face  was  terribly  distorted,  and 
she  had  pushed  her  white  nightcap  far  on  the  back 
of  her  grizzled  wool.  Her  candlestick  she  held  in 
her  hand,  waving  it  back  and  forth  across  Vivienne's 
door  panels  as  if  she  were  making  mystic  signs. 

Vivienne  listened  for  a  few  instants  to  the  an- 
athemas called  down  upon  her  innocent  head, 
which  this  evening  seemed  to  take  the  form  of  bod- 
ily afflictions.  **  Make  her  like  Job,  Lord,"  the 
old  woman  was  praying ;  "  give  her  boils  and  no 
potsherd  to  scrape  them.  Cover  her  with  sores. 
Let  her  be  racked  with  pain— " 

Such  expressions  were  not  pleasant  to  listen  to, 
and  too  weary  and  disheartened  this  evening  to  dis- 
turb the  old  woman,  who  was  apt  to  become  bellig- 
erent if  interrupted  in  her  ravings,  Vivienne  retreated 
noiselessly  to  the  hall  below.  There  she  sat  down 
on  the  top  step  of  the  staircase  and  watched  for 
Stargarde  to  come  from  the  pantry. 


BROTHER   AND   SISTER 


233 


I  to,'  as 

ng,  and 
full  of 
wn  had 
lied  the 
nd  that 
[pressed 
5  of  her 
enne. 
ted,  and 
he  back 
held  in 
vienne's 
igns. 
the  an- 

head, 
of  bod- 

'  the 
and  no 

sores. 

sten  to, 
to  dis- 
bellig- 
treated 
t  down 
led  for 


In  a  few  minutes  Camperdown,  chuckling  ami- 
ably to  himself,  came  through  the  lower  hall  and 
passed  out  of  the  house.  Some  time  elapsed  be- 
fore the  other  two  appeared.  Then  they  came 
sauntering  along  together,  Stargarde  with  her  hand 
on  Mr.  Armour's  shoulder,  and  looking  fondly  into 
his  eyes.  When  they  reached  the  middle  of  the 
hall,  she  drew  his  head  to  her  and  kissed  his  fore- 
head repeatedly :  "  Good-night,  my  dear  boy.  May 
all  good  angels  guard  your  sleep." 

Vivienne  in  her  bewilderment  and  distress  almost 
cried  out  She  had  become  very  much  attached  to 
the  eccentric  physician,  whom  Stargarde  tolerated 
so  good-naturedly,  and  she  fondly  hoped  that  some 
day  Stargarde  would  marry  him.  And  now  she  was 
bestowing  caresses  on  another  man,  which  from  a 
woman  such  as  she  was,  could  mean  only  one 
thing,  that  she  loved  Mr.  Armour  and  would  marry 
him. 

Some  movement  that  Vivienne  invohmtarily 
made,  attracted  the  attention  of  the  two  people  be- 
low; Stargarde  looked  up  hastily  and  on  seeing 
the  disturbed  face  peering  down  at  her,  grew  first 
pale  and  then  red,  but  did  not  release  hev  h.>ld  on 
Mr.  Armour.  "  Vivienne,"  she  said  quietly,  **  come 
here,  dear  child." 

Slowly  and  most  unwrlingly  Vivienne  went  down 
step  by  step,  till  at  last  she  stood  in  the  lower  hall. 

Stargarde  led  Mr.  Armour  up  to  one  of  the  panel 


234 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


■t\i     ! 


'\    '    ' 


k'l 


mirrors  with  which  Flora  was  fond  of  decorating  the 
house.  There  she  threw  one  arm  around  his  neck, 
and  with  her  hand  covered  his  moustache.  A  quick 
motion  of  her  other  hand  brushed  back  the  yellow 
curls  from  her  face.  The  exposed  forehead  in  her 
case,  the  hidden  moustache  in  his,  heightened  the 
strong  resemblance  between  them  that  Vivienne 
was  intensely  astonished  to  perceive,  and  yet  won- 
dered at  herself  for  not  noticing  before. 

The  two  heads  were  of  the  same  clcissical  shape, 
the  straight  noses  were  alike,  both  had  a  clear, 
healthful  pallor  of  skin  and  faint  coloring  of  the 
cheek  ;  but  Armour's  thick,  light  hair  was  straight 
and  waveless,  and  several  shades  paler  than  Star- 
garde's  yellow,  curling  locks. 

In  troubled  confusion  Vivienne  gazed  at  them, 
thankful  that  their  backs  were  to  her,  and  that  Star- 
garde  had  been  thoughtful  enough  to  present  their 
faces  to  her  in  the  mirror.  They  were  brother  and 
sister.  She  did  not  understand  it,  nor  know  what 
to  say  about  it,  and  it  was  an  immense  relief  when 
Stargarde  turned  to  her  with  one  of  her  quick  mo- 
tions, kissed  her  lovingly,  and  going  upstairs  with 
her  murmured,  "  Don't  worry  over  it,  dear ;  it  is  all 
right" 

When  they  reached  the  turn  in  the  staircase, 
Vivienne  looked  over  her  shoulder.  Mr.  Armour 
was  going  about  the  hall,  putting  out  the  lights, 
with  the  same  dull,  unmoved  expression  of  counte- 


BROTHER   AND   SISTER 


235 


nance  that  he  had  worn  ever  since  he  came  into  the 
house.  Under  his  own  roof  there  always  seemed 
a  heavier  shadow  upon  him  than  when  he  was  away 
from  it 

"Oh,  Stargarde,"  said  Vivienne,  clasping  her 
friend's  hand  to  her  breast,  "I  am  so  miserable  !" 

"  I  know  it,  darling  ;  your  face  is  pitiful.  Go  and 
undress  and  get  into  your  little  white  bed,  and  I 
will  come  and  sit  beside  you,  and  you  shall  tell  me 
all  about  it     I  want  to  speak  to  Mammy  first" 

Late  that  night,  long  after  Stargarde  had  watched 
Vivienne  lay  her  black  head  on  her  pillow  and  had 
kissed  her,  murmuring  sweetly  in  French,  **  Bonne 
nuit ;  dormez  bieUy  mon  ange^'  old  Mammy  Juniper 
crept  to  the  sleeping  apartment  of  the  stranger 
under  the  roof  Noticing  that  there  were  tears  on 
the  lovely  cheeks,  she  wiped  them  away,  and  with 
fierce  mutterings  looked  in  the  direction  of  Vivi- 
enne's  room  and  called  down  a  curse  upon  her,  if 
she  had  been  the  one  to  bring  them  there. 


CHAPTER  XX 


CHASED   AS   A    BIRD   WITHOUT   CAUSE 


f'Vi. 


i 


•M'll 


a< 


•^inr  I 


ii 


STARGARDE  had  had  a  busy  afternoon.  The 
table  in  the  middle  of  the  room  was  littered 
with  account  books,  in  the  midst  of  which  she  had 
cleared  a  small  space  so  that  she  might  take  her 
tea  and  go  on  with  her  work. 

Bread  and  cheese,  celery  and  tea,  composed  her 
frugal  meal,  and  she  was  eating  and  drinking  cheer- 
ily and  thanking  God  in  her  heart  that  she  had  so 
many  more  blessings  than  she  deserved. 

Yet  there  were  some  things  that  caused  a  shadow 
to  pass  over  her  lovely  face.  Zeb  was  one  of  them. 
All  the  afternoon  she  had  been  thinking  of  her.  Out 
in  the  playground  in  front  of  her  windows,  the 
ruddy-faced  children  whose  parents  lived  in  the 
Pavilion,  had  been  playing  merrily,  and  she  had 
wished  a  dozen  times  that  Zeb  was  among  them. 

The  very  air  of  Halifax  is  militar}',  and  even  the 
children  are  warlike  in  iheir  games.  The  children 
had  built  a  huge  snow  fort  and  manned  it  with  a 
body  of  resolute  defenders,  who  gallantly  resisted 
the  beseiging  force  till  their  supply  of  ammu- 
nition, consisting  of  snowballs,  had  given  out 
236 


ilii 


CHASED   AS   A    BIRD   WITHOUT   CAUSE 


237 


A  spirited  sortie  had  not  mended  matters.  They 
were  overpowered,  their  officer  in  command  cap- 
tured, their  flag  trampled  in  the  snow,  and  that  of 
their  conquerors  run  up  in  its  place. 

And  Zeb  might  be  sharing  the  children's  fun  and 
frolic  if  she  would  ;  but  she  would  not.  She  had 
plainly  given  Stargarde  to  understand  that  she  did 
not  wish  to  have  anything  more  to  do  with  her, 
and  was  going  on  in  her  own  way  with  sullen  resig- 
nation. 

Stargarde  sighed  mournfully  as  she  drank  her 
tea.  "And  it  v/as  all  on  account  of  Brian,"  she 
murmured.  "Zeb  was  getting  on  well  with  me 
till  he  came  here  that  evening.  Strange  that  she 
should  be  so  frantically  jealous  of  him  ;  and  she 
promised  to  come  too.  But  I  will  not  complain. 
God  will  give  me  back  my  wandering  lamb.  I 
must  beg  Brian  not  to  come  here  for  a  time." 

As  if  in  punishment  of  her  inhospitable  thought, 
she  at  that  moment  heard  his  heavy  step  on  the 
veranda,  and  the  utterance  of  her  name  in  his 
peremptory  accents  : 

"  Starg'irde,  Stargarde,  let  me  in." 

She  sprang  up,  opened  the  door,  and  watched 
Dr.  Camperdown  in  surprise,  as  he  walked  in  hold- 
ing something  in  his  arms  closely  wrapped  in  his 
sleigh  robe. 

This  something  he  put  down  on  the  broad,  low 
couch  against  the  wall,  and  throwing  back  the  robe. 


.^-,,^ 


Wji   I 


MW 


>■     .  I 


m 


■■'(:'.   I> 


P  •  * 


238 


THE   HOUSE   OF    ARMOUR 


disclosed  to  view  a  much  battered  and  bleeding 
Zeb.  The  child's  dress  was  nearly  torn  from  her 
body.  Her  black  hair,  discolored  and  partly  drawn 
over  her  face,  was  matted  with  blood  that  had  run 
down  from  cuts  in  her  head. 

"  Take  scissors  and  cut  it  away,"  said  Dr.  Camp- 
erdown  shortly.  "I'll  be  back,"  and  he  hurried 
from  the  room.  In  a  very  short  time  b*^  was  with 
her  again,  having  with  quick,  impatient  finders, 
thrown  out  Polypharmacy's  weight  on  the  l  jw, 
obtained  his  surgeon's  bag  from  the  sleigh,  and 
seized  the  whip  from  its  socket  This  latter  he 
smiled  grimly  at,  as  he  brought  it  in  and  set  it  in  a 
corner  of  the  room.  All  the  upper  part  of  it  was 
gone,  broken  off  short,  and  the  heavy  handle  was 
stained  with  blood. 

"  Doctor,  doctor,"  moaned  the  child,  who,  when 
Stargarde  touched  her,  recovered  from  her  state  of 
insensibility.  And  "Doctor,  doctor,"  she  con- 
tinued to  moan  all  the  time  they  were  washing  and 
dressing  her  wounds  and  fitting  in  place  the  strips 
of  court-plaster.  The  cuts  and  bruises  were  all 
about  her  head.  The  little,  thin  body,  a  mere 
skeleton  of  a  thing,  was  unhurt,  and  at  last  Camp- 
erdown  ejaculated,  "  Let  her  alone  now ;  she'll 
drop  off  again." 

Stargarde,  while  there  was  necessitj^  for  action, 
forbore  to  ask  questions,  and  when  her  attendance 
of  the  child  was  over,  still  forbore,  for  she  saw  that 


CHASED    AS   A    BIRD   WITHOUT   CAUSE 


239 


bleeding 
from  her 
[y  drawn 
had  run 

r.  Camp- 
hurried 
was  with 
finprers, 
le  L  jw, 
igh,  and 
alter  he 
et  it  in  a 
Df  it  was 
[idle  was 

10,  when 
state  of 
le  con- 
ing and 
le  strips 
'ere  all 
la  mere 
Camp- 
;  she'll 

action, 

Indance 

iw  that 


f 


Camperdown  was  in  a  state  of  furious,  repressed 
temper. 

"  My  I  go  to  the  kitchen  ?  "  he  asked  abruptly ; 
and  at  her  murmured,  "Certainly,"  he  withdrew, 
taking  his  whip  with  him,  and  making  a  great 
noise  and  splashing  while  cleaning  it  When  he 
came  back  into  the  little  parlor,  she  was  glad  to 
see  that  his  features  were  less  convulsed.  She 
poured  him  out  a  cup  of  tea,  which  he  drank  ab- 
sently and  in  silence,  and  then  sat  with  knit  brows 
looking  at  the  unconscious  child  on  the  sofa. 

"How  long  since  you've  seen  her?"  he  said  at 
last. 

"  Two  days,"  replied  Stargarde.  "  She  has  been 
avoiding  me.  Poor  child,  she  has  not  been  in  a 
good  temper.  The  truant  officer  found  her  out, 
and  being  under  fourteen,  she  was  obliged  to  go  to 
school.  Some  of  the  girls  told  me  that  she  was 
very  angry  about  it  on  account  of  her  shabby 
clothes.  They  also  said  that  they  feared  she  wasn't 
getting  enough  to  eat.  Think  of  that,  Brian,  in 
this  good  Christian  city  of  Halifax,  where  thousands 
of  citizens  sit  down  daily  to  comfortable  breakfast 
tables." 

He  made  some  sort  of  an  inarticulate  reply,  and 
she  continued  :  "  I  went  by  there  the  other  morn- 
ing and  the  little  things  were  singing  their  opening 
song,  'For  daily  bread  and  wholesome  food,  we 
thank  thee.  Lord.'     Think  of  the  mockery  of  it ! 


•i] 


II; 


jrih 

Tiff 


'i 


J'' 


^1 


,'i 


l\ 


240 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


The  city  refuses  bread  to  their  children  and  puts 
a  song  into  their  mouths." 

"  Have  you  been  making  up  your  books?"  asked 
Camperdown,  with  an  abrupt  change  of  subject, 
and  a  glance  at  the  papers  on  the  table. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  just  finished  collecting  this  quar- 
ter's rents,  and  I  wanted  to  get  things  in  order  be- 
fore Christmas.  I  wish  we  had  a  dozen  of  these 
model  tenement  houses,  Brian.  Do  you  know  I 
am  besieged  with  applications  to  enter?  And  yet 
some  people  say  that  if  you  build  houses  for  the 
poor  they  won't  go  into  them." 

"  If  any  man  said  to  me  to-night,  'You're  stripped 
of  what  you  possess ;  you're  a  pauper,'  I  would 
commit  suicide,"  said  Dr.  Camperdown. 

"Why  would  you  do  that?"  asked  the  woman 
gently. 

"Because  they're  badly  used ;  that  is,  the  pau- 
pers." 

"  I  should  make  a  distinction  between  paupers 
and  poor  people,"  returned  Stargarde.  "A  pauper 
is  a  person  dependent  upon  charity.  A  poor  per- 
son, or  one  who  is  not  as  well  off  with  regard  to 
this  world's  goods  as  his  neighbors,  should  be  one 
of  the  happiest  and  most  independent  of  mortals. 
When  I  am  coming  home  these  winter  evenings  I 
love  to  look  in  our  Pavilion  windows.  What  could 
be  more  cheerful  than  the  neat  little  kitchen,  the 
small  supper  table,  the  blazing  fire  with  the  wife 


k... 


CHASED    AS    A    BIRD    WITHOUT    CAUSE 


241 


and  children  waiting  around  it  for  the  father's  return  ? 
Those  people  have  no  carking  care,  no  worry  as  to 
keeping  up  appearances,  no  elbowing  each  other  in 
the  mad  rush  for  social  distinction.  Of  course  they 
have  worries ;  they  would  not  be  human  if  they 
had  not ;  but  their  very  simplicity  of  life  tends  to 
lessen  those  worries." 

"  But  they're  neglected,  they're  neglected,"  said 
Camperdown  irritably.  "  Look  at  the  children  of 
the  rich.  Suppose  the  parent  leaves  them ;  a 
trained  servant  takes  charge.  The  poor  woman 
goes  out ;  she  can't  take  her  children.  Who's  to 
look  after  them?" 

"A  neighbor,  an  elder  child." 

"A  neighbor,"  repeated  Camperdown,  in  what 
would  have  been  accents  of  scorn,  had  he  not  re- 
membered he  was  talking  to  the  woman  he  so 
much  loved  and  respected  ;  "a  neighbor;  and  sup- 
pose the  neighbor  a  worse  rascal  .nan  yourself? 
Leave  the  respectable  poor  and  take  the  vicious  and 
criminal  classes.  Wild  beasts  look  after  their  own  ; 
but  suppose  the  beast  is  out  and  the  young  alone. 
Who  steps  in  as  tender  nurse?  " 

"The  city  should  be  a  tender  nurse  to  the 
children  of  the  poor,"  responded  Stargarde  sadly. 
"There  should  be  public  playgrounds  and  play- 
rooms with  trusty  women  in  attendance.  What  a 
load  of  anxiety  would  be  taken  from  the  minds  of 
poor  parents  who  are  obliged  to  go  out  and  work 

Q 


m 


k  .1 


i> 


:':  t 


f  ( 


■ft'  'lilJ; 


i 


^:-! 


•  I ... 


P 
I 

I 


242 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


by  the  day,  leaving  their  children  often  to  doubtful 
companionship.  I  have  known,"  in  a  low  voice,  "  a 
humble  woman  who  scrubbed  floors  and  who  was 
not  permitted  to  take  her  little  girl  with  her.  All 
day  long  she  was  racked  by  anxiety  as  to  whether 
that  child  was  in  good  company.  She  could  not 
lock  her  up,  she  could  not  trust  her  with  any  one, 
for  she  was  in  an  evil  neighborhood." 

"  What  became  of  the  child  ?  "  asked  Camper- 
down,  a  red  and  angry  light  in  his  eye. 

"  She  is  one  of  the  worst  girls  in  the  streets  of 
Montreal." 

"Then  a  curse  upon  the  city  for  its  neglect,"  he 
said,  with  a  fierce  burst  of  wrath. 

Stargarde  looked  at  him  curiously,  and  with  visi- 
ble satisfaction.  "  Brian,"  she  said  gently,  "  do 
not  waste  time  in  cursing  an  evil,  but  set  to  work 
to  remedy  it  And  may  I  ask  what  extraordinary 
thing  has  occurred  to  make  you  resison  from  such 
a  change  of  base  ?  " 

"There — there!"  he  ejaculated,  pointing  to  the 
sofa.  "Never  saw  it  as  I  did  just  now."  Then 
going  on  with  rapid  utterance,  "Was  driving  home 
along  Brunswick  Street — dusky,  but  still  could  see 
a  bit.  Happened  to  look  up  at  old  rookery  you 
took  me  to.  One  of  the  top  windows  open.  Just 
as  I  looked,  child  there,"  with  a  wave  of  his  hand 
toward  the  sofa,  "  rose  up,  stared  at  me  like  a  rat 
out  of  a  cage — face  set,  wild  expression,  and  called, 


CHASED    AS   A    BIRD   WITHOUT   CAUSE 


243 


•  Doctor  ! '  Then  she  fell  back.  I  rushed  into  the 
hoyse  and  upstairs,  nearly  breaking  my  neck  on 
loose  boards ;  no  one  about  the  halls,  though  I 
could  hear  them  lively  enough  in  rooms.  In  the 
front-attic  den — a  child  there,  in  hand  to  hand  tus- 
sle with  a  lout  of  a  shoemaker  of  this  street.  Smith 
by  name.     You  know  him  ?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  Stargarde,  who  was  listening  in 
pained  attention. 

"  Brute  drunk,  beating  and  tearing  at  the  child  ; 
and  she,  poor  brat — the  children  of  the  poor  know 
everything — defending  herself  as  nobly  as  a  beau- 
teous damsel  assailed  in  her  castle." 

"And  you,  Brian,"  said  Stargarde,  hot  tears  of 
shame  and  sorrow  in  her  eyes,  "what  did  you  do?" 

"Knocked  him  down,  of  course.  Child  threw 
herself  at  me  in  a  frenzy  of  relief  He'd  choked 
her  so  she  couldn't  scream.  Don't  take  much 
strength  to  stifle  a  child,"  with  an  angry  dilation 
of  nostrils,  and  an  accent  of  superb  disdain.  "  I 
put  her  aside  and  addressed  shoemaker.  May  the 
Lord  forgive  me,  but  I  was  in  a  rage.  Told  him 
I'd  give  him  his  choice ;  he  could  go  to  the  police 
court  and  I'd  ruin  him,  or  he  could  take  a  beating, 
and  I'd  hush  the  matter  up.  He  took  the  beat- 
ing— there's  nothing  like  the  lash  for  attempted 
crimes  against  women  and  children — and  he  lay 
there  and  waited  till  I  went  down  for  the  whip. 
His  back's  pretty  sore ;  you'd  better  go  see  him ; 


\ 


244 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


n;  ? 


n  i 


.*  I 


IP 


:'  1  i  a-i 


.Mt 


f       : 


but  don't  let  the  thing  get  out,  for  the  child's  sake," 
and  his  voice  softened  as  he  glanced  toward  the 
sofa. 

"The  Lord  sent  you  there,  Brian,"  said  Star- 
garde,  through  her  tears. 

"  I  got  my  lesson  too,"  said  the  man,  twitching 
uneasily  as  if  his  back  too  were  sore.  *'  Stargarde, 
the  worst  is  to  come.  The  poor  devil  turned  on 
me  as  he  left — the  whip  had  thrashed  the  liquor 
out  of  him — and  snarled  at  me  that  I  might  take 
my  share  of  the  blame.  '  'Tis  you  gentlemen  that 
send  us  to  hell,'  he  said.  'You  drink  your  fine 
brandies  and  whiskies  in  your  hotels  and  clubs, 
and  license  the  devils  that  sell  us  poor  men  made 
liquors  that  are  half  poison  and  make  us  run  mad 
at  anything  we  see.'  " 

"  Brian  ! "  exclaimed  the  woman.  **  You  never 
touch  intoxicants  yourself  You  know  the  evil  of 
them.  You  do  not  work  actively  in  any  temper- 
ance cause,  but  surely  you  would  never  sign  a 
license  for  any  man  to  keep  a  saloon  ! " 

He  stood  before  her  like  a  schoolboy  culprit 
"  I  own  property  in  this  ward,"  he  said  shamefacedly. 
"Old  Denver,  that  keeps  a  saloon  near  Smith's  shop, 
came  to  me  to  sign  his  license.  The  man  has  to 
get  his  living.  I  didn't  think— and  put  my  name 
down.  That's  what  stings  now,"  he  went  on  con- 
tritely.    **  Perhaps  Smith  got  his  liquor  there." 

Stargarde  drew  herself  up  to  her  full  height. 


CHASED   AS   A    BIRD   WITHOUT   CAUSE 


245 


s  sake," 
/ard  the 

lid  Star- 

iwitching 
targarde, 
irned  on 
le  liquor 
[ght  take 
men  that 
^our  fine 
id  clubs, 
len  made 
run  mad 

ou  never 
e  evil  of 
temper- 
r  sign  a 

culprit 

^efacedly. 

th's  shop, 

in  has  to 

ly  name 

on  con- 

lere." 

1  height 


"  Do  I  understand  you  to  say  that  you,  a  reason- 
able, intelligent,  human  being,  knowing  what  would 
be  the  effect  of  alcoholic  poisoa  on  your  own  sys- 
tem, and  refusing  to  partake  of  it,  would  yet  sign 
a  paper  allowing  this  poison  to  be  sold  to  your 
fellow-citizens,  every  one  of  whom  is  as  precious  in 
the  sight  of  God  as  yourself? " 

His  silence  gave  the  answer  to  her  question,  and 
she  went  on  with  clasped  hands  and  eyes  raised  to 
the  ceiling  in  a  protest  of  despair :  *•  There  is  no 
name  for  this  awful  traffic — no  words  to  express 
the  frightful  misery  of  it  With  all  that  has  been 
said  and  written,  no  words  have  yet  been  found  to 
fitly  characterize  it  It  is  unspeakable,  indescrib- 
able, and,"  with  a  swift  dropping  from  the  abstract 
to  the  real,  "  to  think  that  you,  Brian,  would  touch 
it  even  with  the  tip  of  your  little  finger!"  She 
dropped  into  a  seat  by  the  table,  laid  her  head  on 
her  arms,  and  burst  into  tears. 

She  was  disappointed  in  him,  and,  stung  by  a 
thousand  furies,  he  made  no  further  attempt  to  jus- 
tify himself,  but  rushed  from  her  presence. 


a^wi 


CHAPTER  XXI 


A  QUIET   EVENING 


^n> 


.1 


l-( 


I  . 


•  / 


nm  a 


t   . 


i  •-'4 


DINNER  was  over  at  Pinewood,  and  all  the 
family  but  Mr.  Armour  sat,  stood,  or  walked 
about  in  the  ros£  du  Barry  atmosphere  of  the  draw- 
ing room. 

"The  outlook  seems  more  gory  than  usual," 
muttered  Valentine,  with  a  groan,  placing  his  hand- 
some figure  in  a  partially-shaded  comer,  "  probably 
because  all  the  lamps  are  going.  Confound  those 
carnation  shades,  and  confound  the  everlasting  de- 
sire of  women  to  have  their  own  way!  If  Flora 
decided  to  hang  the  place  with  crepe  we'd  have  to 
submit.  I  wish  Pinewood  had  a  different  mistress," 
and  the  young  man  glanced  discontentedly  at  her,  as 
she  sat  quietly  engaged  with  some  work  in  a  flow 
of  ruddy  light  from  her  favorite  lamp. 

The  night  was  a  cold  one.  The  great  furnace 
and  the  open  fires  in  the  house  were  burning  with 
wild  and  headstrong  draughts,  and  from  the  crossed 
sticks  of  wood  on  the  drawing-room  hearth,  mad, 
scarlet  flames  went  leaping  toward  the  outer  air. 

Mrs.  Colonibel  was  thinking  about  an  approach- 
ing dance — thinking  so  busily,  as  she  drew  the 
246  i 


iU 


A   QUIET    EVENING 


247 


silken  threads  in  and  out  of  her  linen,  that  she  had 
no  time,  as  she  usually  had,  to  bestow  glances  of 
suppressed  jealous  anger  on  Vivienne  and  Judy. 
The  two  girls  were  wandering  about  the  room  arm 
in  arm,  having  just  come  in  from  the  conservatory, 
where  Judy  had  plucked  camellias  and  scarlet 
geraniums  to  make  a  corsage  bouquet  for  Vivi- 
enne. 

Colonel  Armour  sat  by  the  fire,  pretending  to 
read,  but  surreptitiously  watching  Vivienne,  who 
seemed  to  be  clad  in  a  kind  of  unearthly  beauty  in 
the  roseate  hue  cast  over  her  face  and  white  figure 
by  the  colored  lights  of  the  room. 

"Pray,  Judy,  make  no  more  jokes,"  she  said, 
drawing  the  deformed  girl  down  to  a  seat  beside 
her.  "  My  lips  are  really  fatigued  with  smiling. 
Let  us  be  sensible.  Perhaps  Mr.  Valentine  will 
sing  to  us.  Will  you  ?  "  and  with  a  pretty,  beseech- 
ing gesture  she  turned  to  the  young  man. 

He  bowed  gravely  and  went  to  the  piano.  "  It 
is  the  only  time  that  I  can  endure  him,"  mused 
Vivienne,  "  when  that  flood  of  heartfelt  and  touch- 
ing melody  comes  from  his  frivolous  lips.  How 
can  he  sing  so  divinely — he,  a  trifler,  an  idler?  " 

Valentine,  with  eyes  fixed  on  her,  was  singing 
"  Eulalie."  His  sweet,  strong,  and  powerful  tenor 
voice  filled  the  room.  Some  penetrating  quality  in 
it  touched  the  girl  strangely,  and  tears  came  to 
her  eyes  as  she  listened. 


248 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


i,>  t 


'^^'i'M 


'k 


I 


,.,.      St 

1! '  ''^ 


i 


M 


••Star  of  the  summer  eve, 
Sink,  sink  to  rest ! 
Sink  ere  the  silver  light 
Fades  from  the  west ; 
But  nevermore  will  I 

Watch  keep  for  thee, 

With  her  I  loved  so  well. 

Sweet  Eulalie." 

As  the  last  plaintive,  piercing  note  died  away, 
and  while  Vivien ne  was  murmuring  her  thanks  and 
Judy  was  examining  the  singer  with  a  curious  and 
critical  eye,  as  though  she  had  just  discovered 
something  new  and  unusual  in  his  appearance, 
Mr.  Armour  came  and  stood  quietly  inside  the 
doorway.  Vivienne  saw  the  other  people  in  the 
room  looking  at  him,  and  turned  around.  Perhaps 
owing  to  his  coming  within  the  radiance  of  the 
glowing  lamp  shades,  the  expression  of  his  face 
seemed  kinder  than  usual.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on 
Judy.  There  was  a  sort  of  friendship  between  him 
and  his  cousin's  child  greater  than  that  existing 
between  any  other  two  members  of  the  Armour 
family.  It  was  a  well-known  fact  that  the  girl  de- 
tested her  mother,  that  she  often  fell  into  violent 
passions  with  Valentine  because  he  teased  h'^r, 
and  that  she  usually  ignored  Colonel  Armo 
completely  as  his  elder  son  did. 

Armour  and  Mammy  Juniper  were  her  favor- 
ites, and  even  with  them  she  did  not  always  agree. 
However,  Armour  it  was  who  had  most  influence 


v»^ 


A   QUIET    EVENING 


249 


ed  away, 

lanks  and 

rious  and 

iiscovered 

pearance, 

iside   the 

>le  in  the 

Perhaps 

e  of  the 

his  face 

fixed  on 

iveen  him 

existing 

Armour 

2  girl  de- 

o  violent 

sed  h'^r, 

mo 

2r  favor- 
''s  agree. 
Influence 


over  her,  and  he  it  was  to  whom  Mrs.  Colonibel 
appealed  when  Judy's  fits  of  temper  threatened  to 
disturb  the  balance  of  power  in  the  household. 

When  Judy  saw  that  Armour's  attention  was  di- 
rected to  her,  she  made  a  face  at  him  and  dropped 
her  head  on  Vivienne's  shoulder. 

"Judy,"  he  said,  "some  telegrams  have  just 
come  in.  I  must  write  letters  and  I  have  a  head- 
ache  " 

He  paused  for  a  reply,  and  Judy  raised  her  head 
with  an  aggrieved  expression.  *'  Stanton  Armour, 
am  I  the  kind  of  person  to  be  mewed  up  in  your 
den  with  you  all  the  evening  and  write  letters  for 
love?" 

"No,  Judy,  you  are  not  that  kind  of  person. 
You  require  an  equivalent  for  services  rendered. 
I  make  the  usual  offer." 

"What  do  you  get.  Miss  Secretary?"  asked  Val- 
entine jokingly. 

"He,"  nodding  toward  Armour,  "gives  me  a 
dollar  an  evening.  Do  you  think  it  is  enough?" 
suspiciously. 

"Enough,  Judy?"  and  Valentine  laughed  in 
pretended  amusement ;  "  not  half  nor  a  quarter 
enough.  A  young  lady  of  your  abilities  should 
command  three  dollars  at  least." 

"  I  won't  go  for  a  dollar,  Stanton,"  said  Judy 
stoutly,  and  she  dropped  her  head  to  its  former 
resting  place. 


iJ 


II  ;■;*   !»; 


■ ,    i 


5|,f  !f  I 


m 


%■       s 

i.  .1 


250 


THE   HOUSE   OF  ARMOUR 


"  If  I  paid  my  typewriter  at  the  rate  I  pay  you, 
Judy,  she  would  think  herself  fortunate." 

**  Have  you  a  typewriter  in  your  office,  Stanton?  " 
asked  Judy,  whose  curiosity  was  aroused. 

"Yes." 

"  Does  she  write  all  your  letters  for  you  ?  " 

"  No  ;  some  of  them  only,  I  dictate  to  her  and 
she  takes  down  what  I  say  in  shorthand  and  then 
copies  on  her  machine." 

"  I  should  like  a  typewriter,  Stanton.  Will  you 
get  me  one  ?  " 

*'  If  you  promise  to  learn  to  write  on  it." 

"  I  will ;  and  Vivienne  will  help  me,  won't  you,  my 
blackbird  ?  And  I  will  write  for  you  this  evening, 
Sianton,"  graciously;  "for  on  the  whole,  you  are  a 
satisfactory  kind  of  man.  Come  Vivienne,"  and 
getting  up  she  extended  a  hand  behind  her. 

"  I  wish  to  do  some  reading  in  my  room,"  said 
Vivienne,  folding  Judy's  fingers  together  and  putting 
them  from  her. 

"  You  can  read  in  the  library,"  said  Judy  im- 
periously.    "  I  sha'n't  go  one  step  without  you." 

"The  evening  is  wearing  away,  Judy,"  said  Mr. 
Armour  patiently. 

"Come  with  me  at  once,"  exclaimed  Judy, 
stamping  her  foot  at  Vivienne.  "  I  tell  you  I  hate 
to  write  stooping  over  a  desk  and  holding  a  stiff 
pen  in  my  hand.  I  must  have  something  nice  to 
look  at.     You  shall  come." 


^]'\\ 


A   QUIET    EVENING 


251 


Vivienne  was  very  much  annoyed.  For  weeks 
Judy  had  not  spoken  to  her  in  anything  but  a 
caressing  tone.  What  had  come  over  the  strange 
girl ?  "I  shall  not  go  anywhere  with  you  when 
you  speak  to  me  in  that  tone,"  she  said  proudly. 

Mrs.  Colonibel  looked  up  from  her  work,  and 
seeing  that  she  was  not  observed,  indulged  in  a 
scornful  smile.  Colonel  Armour  laid  down  his 
paper,  and  in  open  amusement  surveyed  the  two 
young  people  standing  opposite  each  other  with 
flushed  and  disturbed  faces. 

"  Pray  keep  on  quarreling,  children,"  said  Valen- 
tine. "  You  are  both  charming  in  those  attitudes, 
I  assure  you." 

Vivienne  blushed  a  yet  deeper  crimson,  and 
holding  her  head  well  up,  walked  from  the  room. 

Judy  hobbled  after  her,  caught  her  hand,  and 
kissed  it  repentantly.  "  My  sweet  girl,  have  I 
offended  you  ?  " 

Vivienne  smiled  and  pressed  her  hand,  but  con- 
tinued on  her  way  toward  the  staircase. 

Judy  clung  to  her.  *•  Do  come  with  me  ;  it  is 
hateful  in  there.  Stanton  is  so  solemn.  If  you 
will  come,  you  may  sit  with  your  back  to  him  and 
look  at  me." 

'•  Pray  put  an  end  to  th>r.  teasing,  Miss  Dela- 
vigne,"  said  Armour  wearily,  and  opening  the  door 
of  the  near  library. 

To  Judy's  great  delight,   Vivienne  came  back 


1 

m 

.* 


i 


?ri 


a'J '■.il-'    i:t. 


R.' 


I : 


252 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


[n 


with  her.  Into  the  large,  quiet  room  with  its 
sombre  rose  and  ashen  tints  they  went  "  How 
can  you  have  a  headache  in  this  cool  place,  Stan- 
ton?" said  Judy.  "Now  if  you  were  in  the  fiery 
furnace  of  the  drawing  room  one  might  understand 
it.  You  must  turn  up  your  lamp — there  is  not 
light  enough  for  me — and  poke  your  fire.  I  am 
cold.  Where  shall  I  sit?  Not  too  far  from  the 
heat,  if  you  please.  Draw  that  little  table  up  for 
me  and  put  that  grandfatherly  chair  in  front  of  the 
fire  for  Vivienne,  and  you  may  sit  behind  the  big 
table." 

" Does  your  head  ache  badly? "  asked  Vivienne, 
fixing  her  large,  dark  eyes  on  Armour's  face. 

"Rather  badly." 

"That  means  it  is  splitting,"  said  Judy  briskly. 
"  Most  men  would  say  that.  Stanton  never  exag- 
gerates." 

Armour  smiled  slightly,  and  having  complied 
with  Judy's  rather  unreasonable  demands  in  the 
way  of  supplies  of  pens,  blotting  paper,  and  all  the 
paraphernalia  of  a  secretary's  desk,  seated  himself 
at  a  little  distance  from  her  and  began  to  dictate. 
Judy  wrote  a  fair,  round  hand,  and  under  the  pres- 
sure of  a  silver  spur  had  become  familiar  with  the 
ordinary  forms  of  business  correspondence,  so  that 
the  writing  v/en':  smoothly  on.  The  girl,  unlike 
her  spendthrift  mother,  was  inclined  to  be  miserly, 
and  hoarded  every  cent  that  she  received  to  be  de- 


A    QUIET    EVENING 


253 


posited  in  the  savings  bank,  the  gloating  over  her 
bank  book  being  one  of  her  chief  pleasures  in 
life. 

One  hour  passed,  then  another,  and  still  Judy 
wrote  steadily  on,  only  stopping  once  or  twice  to 
ask  Mr.  Armour  to  replenish  the  fire,  or  to  bestow 
a  loving  glance  on  Vivienne  who  had  fallen  asleep 
over  her  book,  her  head  resting  on  the  cushion  of 
her  high-backed  chair.  "  I'm  tired,"  she  exclaimed 
at  last,  throwing  down  her  pen.      "  Won't  this  do? " 

"Yes,"  he  said  looking  at  his  watch.  "I  had 
no  idea  it  was  so  late.  I  fear  that  I  have  fatigued 
you." 

"Are  they  to  be  pocted  to-night?"  said  Judy, 
her  eyes  wandering  to  the  heap  of  letters  on  the 
table. 

'•  Yes.  Just  ring  the  bell  beside  you  ;  Vincent 
must  go  to  the  post  office." 

"  I  will  stamp  the  envelopes,"  said  Judy  oblig- 
ingly. "  Please  pass  me  your  glass  moistener.  I 
hate  to  lick  things.  Here  is  Martha;  will  you  give 
her  the  message  for  Vincent?  " 

When  the  letters  were  disposed  of,  Armour  took 
up  his  station  on  the  hearth-rug,  and  Judy  threw 
herself  in  an  ecstasy  of  silent  adoration  before 
Vivienne.     "  Isn't  she  an  angel,  Stanton  ?  " 

"  Not  an  angel,  but  very  much  of  a  woman,"  he 
replied,  calmly  surveying  the  sleeping  girl. 

"You're  a  man,"  said  Judy  sharply,  "  and  when 


ll 

iiSf 

^sBt '' 

■ 

m 

ppl 

\ 

^wii 

1  iv  /; 

1 

K< 

ll'-5 

! 

I  •'•II.. 


i;i: 


;i/ 


'•        1' 


ill 
iiii 


254 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


you  see  a  pretty  girl  in  a  white  dress  you  admire 
her,  and  you  needn't  try  to  make  me  think  you 
don't.  I  was  reading  the  other  day  that  Napoleon 
thought  a  slight  woman — he  hated  fat  ones — dressed 
in  white  and  walking  under  trees,  was  a  lovely 
sight,  and  I  quite  agree  with  him.  So  do  you. 
What  are  you  frowning  about?  Don't  you  like 
Napoleon  ?    liverybody  worships  him  nowadays." 

"A  human  tiger  with  a  thirst  for  blood?     No." 

"Well,  he  admired  women." 

"  He  was  a  beast  in  his  relations  to  them,  Judy. 
Why  does  Miss  Delavigne  so  often  wear  white?" 

"She  likes  it;  but  she's  going  to  give  ii  up." 

Armour  was  struck  by  Judy's  mysterious  tone. 
"Why  does  she  do  that?"  he  asked. 

"She  says  she  can't  afford  it ;  it's  a  terrible  grief 
to  her  that  she  has  no  money  of  her  own." 

"  Ah,  she  told  you  about  that  discovery,  did 
she  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  couldn't  keep  it  from  me.  I  saw 
that  she  was  fretting  over  something  and  I  teased 
her  till  she  told  me.  Don't  you  see  a  difference 
in  her?  " 

"In  what  way?  " 

"Why,  she  is  so  subdued,  and  she  thinks  a  great 
deal  and  often  lies  awake  at  night.  That's  why 
she's  sleeping  now.  And  she  tries  to  mend  her 
clothes.  Dear  me  ! "  and  Judy  began  to  laugh, 
"  she  makes  a  sad   botch   of   it.      She   darned  a 


:l      '••    . 


A   QUIET   EVENING 


255 


stocking  the  other  day  till  it  was  so  lumpy  she 
couldn't  wear  it.  She  worries  too  about  breaking 
her  engagement  to  Captain  Macartney.  You  know 
that,  don't  you?" 

•'  Do  you  imagine  that  Miss  Delavigne  would 
confide  the  history  of  her  love  affairs  to  me?" 

•'  No  ;  but  you  might  make  her.  When  are  you 
going  to  let  her  leave  here,  Stanton  ?  " 

"I  don't  know." 

"You'll  miss  her  when  she  goes,  mark  my 
words.  You  are  as  red  as  one  of  mamma's  lamp 
shades  now  merely  from  thinking  about  it.  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  you  are  in  love  with  my  treas- 
ure yourself,"  and  seizing  a  fold  of  Vivienne's 
gown  she  pressed  it  to  her  lips. 

"Do  you  see  any  symptoms  of  it?"  he  asked 
coolly. 

"  Yes  ;  when  you  are  carving  you  always  give  her 
the  bit  of  meat  nearest  the  bone,  and  you  watch 
her  when  no  one  is  looking,  and  you  hate  for  Val 
to  pay  her  any  attention,  and  you  don't  want 
Uncle  Colonel  to  come  near  her.  You  and  I  are  a 
sad  pair  of  pagans,  Stanton.  You  don't  like  your 
father,  and  I  don't  like  my  mother — who  isn't  worthy 
of  the  name,  so  I  call  her  mamma.  Do  you  know 
what  makes  me  hate  Uncle  Colonel  so  much  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  wish  you  wouldn't  run  that  word  'hate' 
so  hard." 

"Weil,  'detest'  then.     Do  you  remember  that 


m " 

fku 

w  1 


If .  *' 


l.  1 


ii-:     I 


fl 


hi 


i 


256 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


wall-eyed  housemaid  with  pink  cheeks  that  we  had 
three  years  ago  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"One  day  I  saw  Uncle  Colonel  kissing  her  in 
the  back  hall,  and  she  looked  as  if  she  liked  it, 
and  then  he  kissed  her  again,  and  she  said,  '  Law 
sir,  there  might  be  some  one  loolan'.*  I  went  up 
behind  and  gave  her  a  slap  on  the  back,  and  said, 
'You  saucy  hussy,  get  to  your  work,'  and  I  said  to 
Uncle  Colonel,  '  You  old  fool ! '  and  I  have  never 
liked  him  since.  I  don't  see  what  gentlemen  want 
to  kiss  servants  for,  when  there  are  flocks  of  ladies 
who  would  be  proud  and  happy  of  the  honor ;  do 
you,  Stanton  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't." 

"  Did  you  ever  kiss  a  woman,  Stanton  ?  " 

"I  once  had  a  mother,  Judy." 

"  You  are  begging  the  question  ;  but  your  mother 
was  lovely,  wasn't  she?  In  that  painting  in  your 
room  she  has  a  sweet,  patient  face  like  a  nun's.  I 
don't  see  how  she  got  on  with  Uncle  Colonel  ; 
probably  he  hastened  her  end.  Mammy  Juniper 
says  you  are  more  like  her  than  Val.  Hush,  my 
sweet  saint  is  waking  up.  No,  she  isn't.  I  want 
to  beat  myself  sometimes  when  I  think  how  hate- 
ful I  was  to  her  when  she  came." 

"  What  did  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  teased  her  ;  but  soon  I  began  to  like  her,  and 
now  I  could  not  live  without  her,  and  if  she  leaves 


m 


^^■■ 


A   QUIET   EVENING 


257 


we  had 


r  her  in 
liked  it, 
d,  'Law 
went  up 
ind  said, 
I  said  to 
ve  never 
len  want 
of  ladies 
jnor;  do 


ir  mother 
in  your 
mun's.  I 
Colonel  ; 
Juniper 
iush,  my 
I  want 
low  hate- 


her,  and 
he  leaves 


Pinewood  I  shall  go  too,"  and  Judy  threw  a  defiant 
glance  up  at  the  man  standing  over  her. 

**  Don't  talk  nonsense,  Judy,"  he  said,  scanning 
disapprovingly  the  little  passionate  figure  crouched 
on  the  hearthrug. 

"Why  shouldn't  I  follow  her?"  continued  the 
girl  vehemently.  "Hasn't  she  done  more  for  me 
already  than  my  mother  has  ever  done?  Wasn't 
I  left,  a  baby,  to  the  charge  of  servants  who  tumbled 
me  about,  and  injured  my  spine,  and  made  me  a 
fright,  so  that  I  shall  never  get  married  as  long  as  I 
live  ?  "  with  a  choking  sob.  '*  And  then  she  hated 
me  because  I  was  ugly,  and  any  time  that  I  had 
died  she  would  have  been  glad  ;  but  I  sha'n't  die. 
I  am  going  to  live  for  Vivienne.  She  is  making  me 
well  and  strong.  Do  you  notice  how  much  better 
I  am  looking?  " 

"Yes,"  he  said  kindly.  "There  is  a  change  in 
you.  You  are  putting  on  flesh  and  have  more 
color  in  your  cheeks,  and  I  see  that  you  don't  use 
your  crutches  as  much  as  you  did.  Camperdown, 
you  know,  has  told  you  for  years  that  you  were  too 
dependent  on  them." 

"  Vivienne  did  it,"  said  Judy  triumphantly.  "  She 
begged  me  to  gradually  lay  them  aside,  and  she 
goes  for  walks  with  me,  and  urges  me  not  to  eat 
sweets  and  pore  over  books.  You  know  mamma 
was  always  bribing  me  to  do  something  for  her  by 
saying  that  she  would  give  me  a  box  of  caramels 


258 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


III  ;ii 


and  chocolates,  and  Vivienne  puts  them  in  the  fire  ; 
and  have  you  noticed,  Stanton,  that  at  the  table  I 
watch  her  and  eat  only  what  she  does  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  haven't" 

"  I  do ;  she  says  it  will  help  me,  to  see  another 
person  doing  without  dainties.  Was  that  ice  cream 
nice  this  evening?"  wistfully. 

"  I  forget ;  did  we  have  any  ?     Yes,  I  believe  it 


was. 


M 


"It  was  pistachio,  my  favorite  flavoring,"  said 
Judy.  "Vivienne  didn't  take  it,  so  I  couldn't. 
She  was  hungry,  but  she  refused  ever  so  many 
things.  All  this  afternoon  we  were  at  the  rink. 
She  is  as  graceful  as  a  bird  on  the  ice,  Stanton. 
She  skated  in  Scotland,  so  she  has  kept  up  with 
the  new  things.  She  was  waltzing  with  Mr.  Tre- 
lawney,  and  doing  the  double  Dutch  roll  and  the 
grapevine  and  all  kinds  of  figures  that  I  don't 
know ;  and  I  walked  about  and  watched  her  and 
sat  by  the  fire  in  the  dressing  room  and  drank  only 
one  cup  of  tea,  for  Vivienne  was  looking." 

"  Was  your  mother  there  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  and  ever  so  many  other  people,  skat- 
ing around  and  around.  Such  a  gossip  and  clatter  ! 
Mamma  skates  gracefully  too.  Why  do  fat  people 
so  often  skate  and  dance  well,  Stanton  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Stop  Stanton  ;  don't  talk  any  more  ;  Vivienne 
is  really  coming  out  of  her  sleep.     See  her  eyelids 


A   QUIET   EVENING 


259 


quivering.  What  will  she  say  first  ?  *  Is  your  head- 
ache better,  Mr.  Armour?'  Now  I  am  going  to 
wake  her  as  the  princes  in  the  fairy  tales  wake  the 
princesses.  Don't  you  envy  me  ?  "  and  bending 
over  Vivienne,  Judy  laid  an  airy  kiss  on  her  lips. 
•'  Heigh  ho,  maiden,  awake  ! " 

Vivienne  lifted  her  heavy  lids  and  started  up  in 
laughing  confusion. 

"You  adore  Parkman,"  said  Judy  tantalizingly ; 
"  yet  you  fall  asleep  over  him." 

Vivienne  smiled  at  her,  and  without  replying 
turned  to  Armour  and  uttered  the  predicted  sen- 
tence. 

"  My  headache  is  gone,  thank  you,"  he  replied, 
stroking  his  mustache  in  sober  amusement 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  for  falling  asleep,"  Vivienne 
went  on  ;  "  but  the  sound  of  your  voices  was  sooth- 
ing ;  I  found  it  impossible  to  resist." 

"Now  what  shall  we  do?"  said  Judy,  jumping 
up.  "Go  to  bed,  I  suppose.  What  time  is  it, 
Stanton  ?  Ten  o'clock  ;  too  late  for  tea  in  the  draw- 
ing room,  but  we  might  make  some  here.  Will  you 
help  me,  Vivienne?" 

"  If  it  will  not  take  very  much  time." 

"That  is  another  thing  that  she  makes  me  do," 
said  Judy  to  Mr.  Armour,  "go  to  bed  early.  But 
we  won't  be  long,  dearest.  Will  you  drink  some 
tea,  Stanton  ?  " 

"No,  thank  you." 


t  i 


26o 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


(I 


M- 


I  ; 


1 


1 1<  J ' 


Perhaps  cocoa  would  be  better,"  suggested 
Vivienne. 

*'  Yes,"  replied  Judy,  •*much  better.  Brian  Cam- 
perdown  says  it  is  the  least  harmful  of  all  our  bev- 
erages. Do  you  think  you  could  find  us  a  pot, 
Stanton,  to  boil  some  water?  " 

"  I  will  try,"  he  said,  laying  his  hand  on  the  door 
knob. 

"  Let  us  all  go,"  exclaimed  Judy,  seizing  Vivienne 
by  the  hand. 

Together  they  visited  kitchen  and  pantries,  and 
on  their  return  journey  were  met  by  Mrs.Colonibel, 
who  stared  in  astonishment  at  their  burdens  of  a 
water  kettle,  cups  and  saucers,  a  cream  jug  and 
sugar  basin,  biscuits  and  bread  and  butter. 

"We're  trying  a  cooking  experiment,  mamma," 
said  Judy.  "Stanton  is  going  to  boil  a  book  in 
that  kettle,  and  Vivienne  is  to  eat  it  buttered." 

"It  is  cocoa  that  we  are  about  to  make,  Mrs. 
Colonibel,"  said  Vivienne ;  "  we  shall  only  be  a  short 
time." 

The  lady  smiled  benevolently  upon  them  and 
proceeded  on  her  way  upstairs. 

"Talk  to  us  about  your  beloved  France,  Vivi- 
enne," pleaded  Judy,  a  few  minutes  later,  when 
they  were  seated  around  the  fire  drinking  their 
cocoa.  "  Tell  us  about  beautiful  Touraine  and  the 
castles  of  the  Loire.  No,  begin  with  the  crowd 
on  the  Newhaven  boat,  Vivienne,  and  the  French- 


A   QUIET   EVENING 


261 


t> 


in 


Lrs. 
lort 


and 


ivi- 
[hen 
Iheir 
the 
)wd 
ich- 


women  that  had  no  berths  and  had  to  lie  on  the 
floor.  They  were  deathly  ill,  Stanton,  and  cried  out 
*  Oh  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,'  and  'Ha yi,  yi,  yi,  yi,  yi*  and 
*Je  meurs  /  Tout  ccla  va  se  passer  * ;  and  one  of 
them  lost  her  artificial  teeth  and  couldn't  find 
them." 

Vivienne  smiled  at  the  remembrance.  "  It  seems 
but  yesterday,"  she  said  dreamily,  *•  that  we  landed 
in  Dieppe,  and  the  people  ran  across  from  the  shops 
to  our  train,  bringing  us  soups  and  milk  and  coffee. 
You  cannot  imagine,  Mr.  Armour,  how  very  strange 
and  yet  familiar  it  appeared  to  me — the  French 
faces  and  language.  It  was  as  if  I  had  been  asleep 
all  my  life  and  had  just  waked  up." 

"Go  on,  dear  Vivienne  ;  the  journey  to  Paris." 

"I  don't  know  why  it  is,"  said  Vivienne,  with  an 
apologetic  smile  bestowed  on  Mr.  Armour,  "  but 
Judy  never  wearies  of  tales  of  France." 

"It  is  because  I  hope  to  go  there  some  day," 
said  Judy  triumphantly  ;  "to  visit  every  place  that 
you  have  been  in.  You  need  not  stare  at  me, 
Stanton  ;  I  am  going.  Proceed,  dear  Vivienne,  de- 
scribe to  him  the  lovely  scenery  on  the  way  to  Paris 
and  quaint  old  Orleans." 

"  Did  you  send  me  to  Orleans  because  my  fath- 
er's ancestor,  Guillaume  Delavigne,  had  come  from 
there  ?  "  said  Vivienne  to  Mr.  Armour. 

"  Partly  ;  also  on  account  of  the  good  Protestant 
school  in  the  town,  where  the  facilities  for  studying 


262 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


;'  > '  '1 


French  would  be  better  than  in  Paris  where  there 
are  so  many  English  people." 

She  looked  gratefully  at  him.  He  had  thought 
somewhat  of  her  pleasure.  It  had  not  been  all 
business  and  sternness  with  him  as  she  had  at  first 
imagined.  She  talked  on  disjointcdly  for  some 
time  and  replied  to  Judy's  abrupt  questions;  then 
she  got  up  with  a  quiet,  *'  Now  we  must  say  good- 
night." 

"Ah  !  not  yet,  not  yet,"  pleaded  the  girl ;  "you 
have  not  come  to  the  chateau  of  the  Lacy  d'Entre- 
villes." 

Vivienne  stood  firm.  "Some  other  time,"  she 
said  smiling.  "  Let  us  go  now,"  and  Judy,  grum- 
bling a  little,  prepared  to  obey  her,  though  she  cast 
her  eyes  about  the  room  as  if  seeking  an  excuse  to 
remain. 

"Stanton,"  she  said  amiably,  "come  up  and 
have  afternoon  tea  with  us  to-morrow,  will  you  ?  " 

"With  pleasure,"  he  said  with  equal  amiability. 

"You're  a  good  boy,"  said  Judy  condescend- 
ingly. "  I'll  kiss  you  for  that  Bend  your  proud 
neck  ;  I  haven't  kissed  you  for  a  long  time." 

With  a  little  squeal  of  delight  she  felt  herself 
lifted  off  her  feet.  "  Oh,  put  me  down,"  she  said 
laughingly  ;  "  I  don't  like  to  leave  terra firma.  Now 
say  good-night  to  Vivienne.  Kiss  her  too,"  she 
added  mischievously. 

Armour  gave  her  a  look  that  made  her  limp  ex' 


A    QUIET    EVENING 


263 


It 


self 

fow 
Ishe 


peditiously  out  into  the  hall.  Then  he  extended 
his  hand  toward  Vivicnne. 

What  was  the  matter  with  the  girl  ?  Her  happy 
gentle  demeanor  had  suddenly  turned  into  stiff  re- 
serve and  her  face  was  deathly  pale. 

"  You  must  not ! "  she  exclaimed,  when  he 
made  a  step  toward  her  and  extended  his  hand. 

"  Must  not  what?  "  he  asked  in  surprise.  Then 
her  meaning  flashed  upon  him.  She  thought  that 
he  was  going  to  act  upon  Judy's  suggestion. 

"Can  you  imagine  that  I  would?"  he  said  has- 
tily; "that  I  would  be  so,  so         " 

He  was  still  hesitating  for  a  word,  when  she  drew 
her  fingers  from  him  and  hurried  away. 

He  remained  rooted  to  the  floor  in  acute  sur- 
prise. Just  for  an  instant  the  girl's  admirable  self- 
control  had  given  way.  There  had  been  a  flash  of 
the  eye,  a  trembling  of  the  lip.  "  Something  must 
have  disturbed  her,"  he  muttered.  "  It  could  not 
be  possible  that — no,  never.  She  would  not  fancy 
me,  a  man  so  much  older.  And  yet  it  would  be 
just  like  one  of  the  tricks  that  fate  plays  us.  If 
she  did,  if  I  were  a  revengeful  man,  what  an  oppor- 
tunity for  me.  Stuff  and  nonsense !  What  am  I 
thinking  of?"  and  he  threw  himself  in  his  favorite 
chair  for  reflection. 


. 


ex' 


i 


i''''.'i 


CHAPTER  XXII 


,  r 


I'fb  i; 


ill:. 


i^r 


STARGARDES    MOTHER 

A  STRONG  north  wind  raged  like  a  wild  beast 
over  the  peninsula  on  which  the  city  of  Hali- 
fax is  built,  driving  before  it  a  blinding  snow  storm. 
Up  and  down,  backward  and  forward,  the  wind 
whipped  the  white  flakes,  till  it  was  a  difficult  matter 
to  tell  whether  they  came  from  earth  or  sky. 

Out  on  the  harbor  the  wind  screamed  madly  and 
flung  the  snowy  crystals  into  the  teeth  of  perplexed 
mariners  who  were  trying  to  make  their  wharves, 
causing  them  to  shake  their  heads  impatiently,  for 
the  snow  is  a  blanket  for  them,  while  fog  is  but  a 
curtain. 

Not  many  people  were  about  the  streets.  A  few 
pedestrians  whose  business  forced  them  to  go 
abroad,  went  with  bent  heads  and  umbrellas  under 
their  arms.  The  unfortunates  who  were  driving, 
had  somewhat  the  appearance  of  distressed  birds 
trying  to  tuck  their  heads  under  their  wings. 

The  wind  shrieked  and  howled  about  square- 
roofed  Pinewood,  but  none  of  the  inmates  of  the 
house  came  out  to  be  tortured  by  it.     It  hurled 

sheets  of  snow  against  the  double  windows,  but  the 
264 


m 


STARGARDES   MOTHER 


265 


go 
ler 


rds 


Ire- 

Ihe 


he 


stanch  glass  would  not  yield,  and  the  dry  and 
powdery  particles  would  not  cling  to  the  smooth 
surface,  so  the  wind  had  not  even  the  poor  satisfac- 
tion of  shutting  out  the  light  of  day  from  the 
house. 

With  a  sob  of  rage  it  tried  to  shake  the  sober 
pines.  But  they  had  stood  the  shock  of  countless 
winter  storms  and  only  sliv;jhtly  bending  their  stiff 
bodies  and  nodHmg  their  green  heads,  with  loud 
sighs  and  murmurs  warned  the  wild  wind  that  he 
would  find  no  sport  with  them. 

Roaring  wrathfully,  the  wind  swept  over  the 
wood  and  under  the  trees  of  the  avenue  and  up  the 
long,  bare  road  leading  to  the  town  Here  at  least 
he  would  find  a  victim  in  the  solitary  occupant  of  a 
sleigh  jogging  slowly  out  to  the  Arm. 

Sweeping  up  snow  from  the  road,  pouring  down 
flakes  from  above,  curling,  twisting,  and  howling 
about  the  head  of  the  patient  quadruped,  the  mali- 
cious wind  went;  but  horse  and  driver,  though 
blinded,  smothered,  and  half  covered  with  the 
snowy  atoms,  stood  the  onset  firmly.  The  driver 
did  not  even  pull  up  his  horse,  but  kept  moving  on 
slowly  as  before. 

The  wind  in  a  last  burst  of  fury  swept  out  to  sea. 
There  at  least  he  could  dc  some  damage 

The  man  in  the  sleigh  laughed  to  himself  and 
put  up  his  head  a  little  way  from  his  high,  fur  col- 
lar to  look  about  him.     One  glance  wiis  enough. 


'3ma» 


•J  I- 


;  •   I 


IH 


i2    • 


■' 


266 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


He  drew  back  his  head  and  said  quietly,  "  Get  on, 
Polypharmacy  ;  ycu  know  where  we're  going.  Sun 
or  rain,  wind  or  calm,  it's  all  one  to  us." 

Not  to  the  bedside  of  some  dangerously  sick 
person  was  Dr.  Camperdown  hastening,  but  to  have 
a  tedious  conversation  on  imaginary  ailments  with 
a  rich  and  fanciful  patient. 

"She's  a  nuisance,  that  old  Mrs.  Prodgcrs,"  he 
soliloquized  as  he  turned  Polypharmacy's  head  to- 
ward the  south.  "Sent  me  word  yesterday  she 
was  dying.  That  means  sLe  has  a  headache  to- 
day. Hallo,  there's  Stargarde,"  as  a  v/oman's  figure 
passed  before  his  horse's  head  and  hurried  down 
the  snowy  road  forming  the  southern  boundary  of 
Pinewood.  The  grove  of  pines  pressed  up  close  to 
the  v»^l  at  this  side  of  the  house,  aad  lower  down, 
nearer  the  Arm,  was  a  small  gste  often  used  by 
Colonel  Armour's  friends  who  approached  his  place 
of  residence  from  the  south  and  wished  to  save 
themselves  a  longer  walk  around  by  the  avenue. 

"She  must  be  going  down  to  the  cottage,"  pur- 
sued Dr.  Camperdown.  "  She's  crazy  to  come  out 
in  this  deep  snow.  She'll  wet  her  feet,  and  wet 
feet  and  cold  feet  are  the  cause  of  a  third  of  the 
miseries  the  feminine  part  of  this  town  is  subject 
to,  if  they  only  knew  it.  Stargarde,  Stargarde  ! " 
and  he  lifted  up  his  voice;  "shall  I  wait  and  drive 
you  home  ?  " 

The  woman  quickened  her  pace  to  a  run,  and 


stargarde's  mother 


267 


the 


Ive 


nd 


plunging  through  the  snow,  was  quickly  at  the  gate 
in  the  wall  which  she  hastily  opened  and  passed 
through. 

•'  Doesn't  want  to  see  me,"  he  muttered  "  Very 
good.     I  can  wait,"  and  he  resignedly  drove  on. 

About  five  o'clock  the  patient  Polypharmacy, 
at  his  master's  command,  drew  up  in  front  of  the 
Pavilion.  "I  won't  throw  the  rug  over  you,  Poly- 
pharmacy," said  Dr.  Campcrdown,  ''for  I'm  not 
going  to  stay.  Stargarde  isn't  home.  Will  leave 
this  tonic  for  Zeb,  and  return  in  a  jiffy.  Hallo, 
what's  this?" 

By  this  time  the  snow  had  ceased  falling.  A 
brilliantly  cold  and  beautiful  winter  sunset  adorned 
the  western  sky.  Straggling  lines  of  men  with 
shovels  invaded  the  houses  of  the  city,  begging 
for  the  privilege  of  clearing  the  snow  from  the 
sidewalks,  and  various  citizens  who  had  been  kept 
indoors  all  day  by  the  severity  of  the  storm  now 
ventured  forth  for  a  stroll  before  darkness  settled 
upon  the  town. 

Camperdown's  exclamation  was  caused  by  a 
small  procession  coming  down  the  street.  Six  old 
men  and  three  old  women  were  creeping,  halting, 
and  limping  along  in  single  file  through  the  snow, 
and  turned  in  at  the  entrance  to  the  Pavilion  as  if 
to  go  to  Stargarde's  rooms. 

••  Who  are  these  and  whence  do  they  come  ?  " 
he  asked  a  small  boy  in  red  mittens  who  was  alter- 


1 ■ ^ 


m 


'Ik. 


/I 


268 


THE   HOUSE  OF   ARMOUR 


a     '  i  ■  ( ■ 


m 

m 


'"'■lb-  i 


r  '* 


nately  watching  him  and  trying  to  make  snowballs 
out  of  the  dry  and  powdery  snow  which  refused  to 
stick  together. 

"I  guess  Miss  Turner's  having  a  cripple  tea," 
said  the  boy.  "She  often  does.  The  cripples 
likes  to  come  together,  'cause  they  can  talk  about 
their  arms  and  legs." 

"  Miss  Turner  isn't  at  home,"  muttered  Dr. 
Camperdown  under  his  breath  and  hastened  in 
after  the  cripples. 

A  little  girl  opened  the  door  to  him,  and  said 
that  Miss  Turner  was  in  the  kitchen,  and  he  might 
go  out  there  if  he  chose  to  do  so. 

He  left  the  child  to  entertain  the  cripples,  who 
were  warming  themselves  by  the  fire  and  chatting 
amiably  to  each  other,  and  passing  into  the  kitchen 
he  found  Stargarde  standing  over  a  huge  pot  of 
soup  that  was  simmering  on  the  stove. 

"  That  is  good  soup,"  she  said  emphatically  and 
lifted  a  spoonful  to  taste  it.  •'  Oh,  how  do  you  do, 
Brian?" 

"  Have  you  been  out  this  afternoon  ?  "  he  asked 
abruptly. 

She  lifted  her  clear  eyes  to  his  face.  "  No,  I 
have  not" 

"  There's  not  another  woman  in  the  town  with  a 
figure  like  yours,"  he  said  irrelevantly. 

"  Isn't  there  ?"  she  said  smilingly.  Then  look- 
ing about  to  see  that  they  were  alone  :  "  Brian,  my 


STARGARDES    MOTHER 


269 


M 


friend,  do  not  be  annoyed  with  me  if  I  tell  you 
that  you  are  coming  here  far  too  often  lately." 

He  was  annoyed,  in  spite  of  her  caution,  and 
showed  it  plainly. 

"  You  know  I  am  not  one  to  fear  the  opinion  of 
the  world  when  I  think  the  opinion  is  likely  to  be 
a  wrong  one,"  she  went  on  with  a  calmness  and 
sweetness  that  did  much  to  subdue  the  opposition 
in  his  mind  ;  '*  but  I  am  a  single  woman  living 
alone.  Society  is  hard  on  women,  unjustly  so  some- 
times ;  but  there  are  certain  safeguards  erected 
which  are  necessary,  and  which  we  should  respect 
You  are  neither  my  brother  nor  my  lover  that  you 
should  come  here  so  often.  I  have  never  yet  been 
lightly  spoken  of,  dear  Brian,  in  all  my  comings 
and  goings  through  the  city.  You  would  be  the 
last  one  to  bring  reproach  upon  me " 

He  muttered  something  about  coming  to  see 
Zeb. 

"  Zeb  is  well  now,"  she  went  on  ;  "  and  Brian,  she 
is  one  of  my  anxieties  at  present.  What  is  to  be- 
come of  her?  She  refuses  to  go  back  to  her 
parents.  The  mother  has  sent  for  her  again  and 
again.  Zeb  is  not  happy  with  me.  She  still  loves 
me,  but  you  have  the  chief  place  in  her  affections. 
She  has  worshiped  you  ever  since  that  day  you 
saved  her  from  that  man.  I  think  I  never  saw  such 
infatuation,  and  she  is  so  quiet  about  it.  You  would 
scarcely  have  suspected  it  if  I  had  not  told  you." 


K-- 


270 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


i1  :     I   I 


{ 


"Scarcely." 

"  I  was  talking  to  her  this  morning  of  God's  love 
for  her,  but  she  told  me  scornfully  to  stop.  If 
God  had  loved  her  he  would  have  made  you  her 
father  instead  of  that  man  Gilberto." 

"Am  I  then  as  old  as  that?"  asked  Dr.  Cam- 
perdown  wistfully. 

Stargarde  laughed  merrily.  "  Zeb  is  only  ten, 
Brian." 

"  I  see  you  have  some  plan  in  your  head,"  he 
said.     "What  is  it?" 

"  I  wish  you  would  adopt  her,"  said  Stargarde 
with  sweet  audacity. 

Camperdown  burst  into  such  a  roar  of  laughter 
that  Stargarde  was  obliged  to  take  him  into  the 
pantry  to  continue  their  conversation,  lest  the  crip- 
ples should  be  startled  by  his  merriment. 

"  She  is  so  odd,"  said  Stargarde  pleadingly. 
"To-day  she  has  gone  off  somewhere,  because  I 
had  the  cripples  coming.  She  wants  one  person's 
time  and  attention.  Oh,  Brian,  save  that  little 
lamb  for  the  dear  Lord." 

"  I  have  one  lamb  called  Hannah,"  drily.  "Two 
lambs  of  that  calibre  in  my  pasture  would  be  run- 
ning their  heads  together." 

"  I  have  a  family  of  orphans  coming  to  me  next 
week,"  Stargarde  went  on.  "  Zeb  will  be  furious. 
She  hates  other  children.  Brian,  for  Christ's  sake 
save  this  little  child." 


If 


STARGARDES    MOTHER 


271 


ly. 
I 

s 
;lc 


xt 


Camperdown  shook  himself  with  impatience. 
"Suppose  I  got  her,  who  would  take  care  of  her?" 

"  Old  Mrs.  Trotley ;  you  know  she  is  the  last 
survivor  of  one  of  the  oldest  families  of  Halifax,  a 
dear,  gentle,  old  lady.  Everything  has  failed  her ; 
she  has  just  given  up  her  little  shop  " 

"So  you  want  to  foist  her  in  on  me?" 

"  Brian,  you  were  railing  against  the  city  the 
other  day  for  not  taking  better  care  of  the  children 
of  the  poor.  Now,  here  you  are  not  willing  to  do 
your  duty  by  one  of  them." 

"  You  are  an  impracticable  schemer.  Stargarde, 
I  wish  you  could  see  how  beautiful  your  hair  is 
against  that  black  jug." 

She  paid  no  attention  to  the  latter  part  of  his 
speech.  "  Well,  Brian,  will  you  do  this  at  least  for 
me?  Go  to  Zeb's  mother  and  ask  her  if  she  won't 
give  the  child  up  to  me.  Any  reasonable  arrange- 
ment I  am  willing  to  make.  They  are  not  fit 
people  to  have  the  custody  of  a  young  girl,  and  if 
all  else  fails,  remind  her  that  I  shall  appeal  to  the 
law  which  takes  children  from  unworthy  guardian- 
ship. I  ask  you  to  do  this  because  the  woman 
avoids  me  strangely,  and  will  not  speak  to  me." 

"When  shall  I  go?" 

"  Any  time,  but  soon." 

"I'll  go  now,"  with  unexpected  alacrity,  and  he 
darted  from  the  room. 

Ten  minutes  later  he  stood  wiping  the  perspira- 


2/2 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


fii 


M'   ■' 


:ii. 


i  ?' 


tion  from  his  heated  brow,  and  wondering  whether 
he  was  still  in  the  possession  of  his  senses,  or 
whether  he  had  fallen  a  prey  to  some  hideous 
nightmare. 

He  had  mounted  to  the  crazy  attic  den  which  for 
some  weeks  had  been  little  Zeb's  home,  and  had 
been  bidden  to  enter.  Before  him  he  saw  a  bit  of 
tawdry  womanhood  at  which  he  gazed  in  stupid 
and  angry  fascination. 

A  transformation  had  been  effected  in  Zeb's 
mother.  Her  old  rags  were  gone,  and  she  had 
been  trying  to  dress  herself  like  a  lady.  Was  it  a 
ghastly,  bedraggled  imitation  of  his  own  Stargarde 
that  he  saw  there,  or  did  his  eyes  deceive  him  ?  If 
he  could  imagine  Stargarde  twenty  years  older 
than  she  was,  a  ruined,  hardened,  degraded  crea- 
ture, a  drunkard  dragged  through  the  mud  of 
several  large  cities,  he  might  have  conjured  up 
something  like  this  bold  and  hard-featured  woman 
of  unusually  large  stature  who  sat  in  a  rickety  arm- 
chair by  the  fire,  her  dress  twitched  aside  to  show 
the  cheap  embroidery  of  her  petticoat,  steam  ris- 
ing in  a  cloud  from  her  wet  boots  that  she  held 
pressed  close  against  the  bars  of  the  grate. 

The  most  horrible  part  of  the  thing  to  him  was 
that  she  saw  his  emotion,  and  plainly  understood  the 
cause  of  it.  "Do  you  think  I  look  like  her?" 
she  asked  complacently. 

There  was  no  light  in  the  room  except  that  com- 


STARGARDES    MOTHER 


273 


ild 


le 


ing  from  the  fire,  and  he  stood  a  little  farther  back 
in  the  shadow,  so  that  she  might  not  read  so  well 
the  expression  of  his  face,  nor  hear  the  sharp  click 
in  his  throat  which  was  all  he  could  manage  by 
way  of  reply  to  her. 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  coolly  drinking 
from  a  cup  that  she  held  in  her  hand,  said  in  a 
coarse  and  cynical  voice  :  "  You  will  excuse  me  ;  I 
am  having  afternoon  tea  to  refresh  myself  after  a 
long  walk.  Sorry  I  can't  offer  you  some,  but  really 
I  don't  know  where  to  lay  my  hand  on  another  cup 
and  saucer." 

She  had  been  drinking  something  stronger  than 
tea,  he  could  tell  by  her  voice,  probably  at  the  mo- 
ment she  had  some  brandy  in  her  cup,  but  she  was 
not  by  any  means  overcome  by  what  she  had  been 
taking,  and  was  able  to  carry  on  a  conversation. 

He  mastered  his  emotion,  and  moistening  his  lips, 
which  were  as  dry  as  if  some  one  had  strewn  ashes 
across  them,  said  sternly :  '*  I  came  here  to  see  on 
what  terms  you  will  part  with  the  child  Zeb." 

"Who  wants  her? "  she  asked  sneeringly. 

"  I  do." 

"What  for?" 

"To  adopt." 

"Will  you  bring  her  up  a  lady?" 

"Yes." 

"  I  suppose  the  lady  of  the  Pavilion  put  you  up 

to  this." 

s 


tW: 


274 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


At  this  the  man's  two  eyes  glared  at  her  with  so 
fierce  and  red  a  light  from  under  his  shaggy  eye- 
brows that  the  woman,  bold  as  she  was,  saw  that 
she  would  spoil  her  bargain  if  she  persisted  in  this 
reference. 

**  You're  a  gentleman,"  she  went  on  composedly; 
"  in  other  words  a  devil,  and  if  you  want  anything 
from  me  you've  got  to  pay  dear  for  it." 

In  unspeakable  loathing  it  seemed  as  if  he  could 
find  nothing  to  say  to  her,  and  he  made  a  gesture 
for  her  to  continue. 

"I  might  set  a  price  on  her,"  she  went  on  in 
mocking,  reflective  tones,  "and  you'd  pay  me  to- 
day, and  to-morrow  it  would  be  gone.  No  ;  you'd 
better  be  my  banker  for  life.  I  draw  on  you  when 
I  choose." 

He  moved  forward  a  few  steps  as  if  to  leave  the 
room,  but  she  cried,  "  Stop." 

"  I'm  used  to  your  class,"  she  said  with  a  fright- 
ful sneer,  "  and  I  know  what's  passing  in  your  mind. 
You're  saying  to  yourself,  'The  woman  is  a  liar,  and 
I'd  better  have  nothing  to  do  with  her.  The  police 
will  get  the  child  from  her,  and  then  I'll  have  a  clear 
start'  But,  my  fine  gentleman,"  leering  hideously 
at  him,  "  don't  you,  nor  the  young  lady  down  yonder 
set  the  police  on  me  for  your  own  sakes.  I'll 
make  it  lively  for  you  if  you  do.  I'm  going  to 
leave  this  dull  little  hole  soon  and  go  back  to 
Montreal.     Not  to  please  you,  but  to  suit  myself. 


STARGARDES    MOTHER 


275 


it- 
Id. 
d 
:e 
r 

'y 

r 
11 
:o 
fo 

if. 


I  came  here  for  a  purpose.  I've  no  reason  to  serve 
you,  but  if  it's  any  good  to  you  to  know  it,  I've  no 
intention  of  meddling  with  you  or  the  young  lady 
yonder.  You  let  me  alone,  and  I'll  let  you  alone. 
But  I'm  hard  up  now ;  you  give  me  a  certain  sum 
down,  and  tell  me  some  place  in  Montreal  where  I 
can  go  quarterly,  and  we'll  call  it  a  bargain." 

Dr.  Camperdown  drew  his  breath  hard  and  fast. 
"  Is  Zeb  your  lawful  child  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  Gilberto  is  the  only  husband  I  ever  had  ; 
a  beauty,  isn't  he  ?  " 

In  a  few  rapid  words,  for  the  sight  of  the  woman 
was  so  hateful  to  him  that  he  could  hardly  endure 
staying  in  the  room  with  her,  Camperdown  con- 
cluded the  agreement  with  her.  "  On  the  day  you 
leave  Halifax,"  he  said,  "come  to  me  and  I'll  give 
you  a  further  sum.  The  sooner  you  come,  the 
more  you'll  get" 

He  turned  on  his  heel,  his  foot  was  on  the  thresh- 
old of  the  door,  when  he  heard  in  a  hissing  voice 
close  to  his  ear,  "  Did  you  ever  hate  any  one  ?  " 

Looking  over  his  shoulder  he  saw  the  nearest  ap- 
proach to  a  fiend  incarnate  that  it  had  ever  been  his 
bad  fortune  to  behold.  The  woman  had  risen  from 
her  chair,  drawn  herself  up  to  her  great  height,  and 
with  hand  laid  on  her  breast  was  staring  before  her, 
not  at  him,  her  face  convulsed  by  a  fierce  and  dia- 
bolical rage. 

"  You  are  nothing,"  she  said  wildly,  "  Zeb  is  noth- 


,v^.>. 


o  *^*>. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


1.1 


11.25 


mm  tm 

Wteu 

1.4    11.6 


Photographic 

^Sdences 

Corporalion 


^ 


\ 


<^ 


■\ 


23  WIST  MA3M  STRUT 

WiUTIR.N.Y.  l4S(tO 

(716)l7a-4503 


276 


THE   HOUSE   OF  ARMOUR 


ing,  Gilberto  is  nothing,  the  lady  nothing,  to  me ; 
I  despise  you  all,  but  that  man,  king  of  devils, 
how  I  hate  him  !  If  I  could  see  him  burning  in 
torment" — and  she  broke  into  a  stream  of  fierce 
imprecations,  compared  with  which  Mammy  Juni- 
per's ravings  were  but  as  milk  and  water  complaints. 

"It  is  hell  to  me  here,"  she  cried,  striking  her 
breast  violently,  **  to  know  how  to  torture  him.  I 
could  kill  him,  but  what  is  that.  One  pang  and  all 
is  over.  But  to  see  him  twist  and  writhe  in  suffer- 
ing. That  is  what  I  want.  I  have  been  to  see  him 
to-day — other  days.  I  said,  'I  starve  and  freeze.* 
What  did  he  say?  *  Woman,  who  are  you?  get 
you  gone.'  O  Lord,  Lord  ! "  and  throwing  herself 
in  her  chair,  she  rocked  to  and  fro  in  speechless 
agony. 

The  gaudy  bonnet  slipped  over  the  back  of  her 
chair,  and  as  her  paroxysm  increased,  her  coarse, 
light  hair  fell  down,  and  from  the  rapid  motion  of 
her  body  to  and  fro,  whipped  wildly  over  her  head. 

Wrapped  in  a  horrible  spell,  Camperdown  gazed 
silently  at  her  for  a  few  minutes.  Then  he  slammed 
the  door  together,  and  rushing  down  the  crazy  steps 
at  imminent  risk  of  breaking  his  limbs,  quickly 
found  himself  in  the  street 

"O  God,"  he  said,  putting  up  one  of  the  most 
fervent  prayers  of  his  life,  when  he  stood  once 
more  under  the  clear,  cold  canopy  of  heaven,  and 
lifted  his  eyes  to  the  first  twinkling  stars  of  the  even- 


11 


V 


r 


STARGARDES    MOTHER 


277 


\ 


ing,  "keep  my  pure,  white  lily  from  a  knowledge 
of  this!" 

He  had  left  Polypharmacy  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  street.  As  he  crossed  over  to  him,  and  lifted 
his  weight  to  put  in  the  sleigh  he  noticed  a  little, 
lonely  figure,  that  moved  away  from  the  horse  at 
his  approach,  and  leaning  against  the  wire  fence 
that  bounds  the  Citadel  Hill,  watched  him  silently. 

"Zeb,"  he  exclaimed,  peering  Lt  her  in  the  half 
light;  "is  that  you?" 

"Yes,"  she  said  quietly,  but  without  moving. 

"Come  here,  little  girl,"  he  said  with  great  ten- 
derness in  his  voice,  "and  get  in  the  sleigh  with  me." 

Without  a  word  of  demur  the  child  took  her  seat 
beside  him,  and  allowed  him  to  wrap  the  wolfskin 
rug  around  her. 

"  Am  glad  I  met  you,"  he  said.  "  Have  just  been 
seeing  your  mother.  She  says  you  may  come  and 
live  with  me,  if  you  choose.     Will  you,  little  Zeb?" 

He  was  not  by  any  means  a  nervous  man,  but 
he  shivered  at  the  look  the  child  gave  him.  She 
wished  to  know  whether  he  was  in  earnest. 

"  My  house  is  lonely,"  he  said  ;  "I  want  a  little 
girl  to  make  it  cheerful.  You  will  come,  won't 
you?" 

The  child  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears  in  which 
she  tried  to  restrain  herself  in  a  curious,  unchildlike 
/ashion,  finally  slipping  off  the  seat  and  sitting  at 
his  feet  with  her  head  buried  in  the  robe. 


2/8 


THE   HOUSE  OF   ARMOUR 


When  he  arrived  at  the  Pavilion  he  tried  to  per- 
suade her  to  come  out,  but  by  various  unmistakable 
signs  she  gave  him  to  understand  that  she  would 
not  leave  him  to  go  back  to  Stargarde. 

His  face  twitched  with  a  variety  of  emotions. 
He  requested  Stargarde  to  come  to  the  door  of  her 
rooms,  for  the  cripples  were  at  tea  and  he  would 
not  go  in.  "  I  have  Zeb,"  he  said  hurriedly.  "  I'll 
take  her — the  mother  consents  ;  they'll  sign  a  con- 
tract Child's  in  my  sleigh,  and  I  can't  get  her 
out" 

Stargarde  clasped  her  hands  ;  a  lovely,  rosy  flush 
glorified  her  face.  "Oh,  I  am  so  glad  !  Thank  the 
Lord  for  that" 

"  House  will  be  cold  and  Hannah'U  be  mad,"  he 
said ;  "  but  I've  got  to  take  her." 

"Zeb  won't  mind,"  said  Stargarde  joyfully,  "if 
she's  with  you ;  you  don't  know  her  faithful  heart" 

"  What  is  Mrs.  Trotley's  address  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  gave  it  to  him,  he  looking  at  her  the  mean- 
while in  inexpressible  tenderness.  "Stargarde," 
softly,  "  I'll  not  come  here  so  much.  Don't  want 
to  bother  you.     You  know  what  brings  me." 

"Yes,  yes,"  she  said  hanging  her  head.  "Dear 
Brian,  it  grieves  me  to  grieve  you." 

"  I  know  it,"  hastily.  "  But  don't  grieve  even 
for  me,  my  darling.  I  would  like  your  life  to  have 
no  care.  But  if  trouble  does  come  upon  you,  you'll 
send  for  me?" 


STARGARDE  S   MOTHER 


279 


"Yes,  yes,  I  will." 

"  Nothing  would  ever  separate  us,"  he  said  in  a 
voice  vibrating  with  emotion.  "  Nothing  but  your 
own  free  will.  You  are  so  fair  and  lovely  ;  always 
a  flower  blooming  amid  dark  surroundings." 

"Thank  you,"  she  said  gayly ;  "that  is  a  pretty 
sentiment" 

With  a  smile  of  ineffable  affection,  he  gently 
pushed  her  inside  the  door.  "Go  in,  my  darling; 
you  will  take  cold.  Don't  tire  yourself  with  the 
cripples.     Good-night" 

"  Zeb,"  he  said,  when  he  returned  to  the  sleigh, 
"  come  up  here,  I  want  to  talk  to  you,"  and  fishing 
under  the  wolfskin  he  drew  her  up  and  set  her 
beside  him. 

"  I  think  Fd  like  to  be  a  reformer,  Zeb,  it's  so 
easy  to  go  about  telling  other  people  what  they 
ought  to  do.  But  when  it  comes  home  to  self, 
that's  a  different  matter.  Zeb,  I'm  not  what  I 
ought  to  be." 

"  Yer  a  good  man,"  said  the  child  half  sulkily, 
"  if  there  he's  any." 

"  Thank  you,  little  Zeb  ;  would  you  mind  saying 
'you'  instead  of  'yer'  ?  Your  mother  talks  good 
English,  but  yours  is  a  little  defective." 

"  You,  you,"  repeated  the  child  under  her  breath. 
"I'll  say  it,  doctor." 

He  continued  talking  to  her,  but  amid  her  brief 
remarks  and  the  many  stirring  arrangements  he 


m 


280 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


made  that  evening  for  her  comfort,  there  was  be- 
fore him  all  the  time  the  ugly  picture  of  the  big, 
light-haired  woman  sitting  by  the  fire,  drinking  her 
tea  and  drying  her  feet,  her  thick  lips  n^oving  in 
the  cynical,  hardened  fashion  in  which  she  had 
talked  to  him. 


II 
r 


'& 
ler 

in 

ad 


1 


\ 


i 


CHAPTER  XXIII 


ON    MARKET    DAY 


JUST  as  the  city  clocks  struck  ten  on  the  last 
Saturday  morning  of  January  of  the  year  of 
which  we  write,  Dr.  Camperdown  came  down  the 
steps  and  into  the  street  from  the  large,  stone  build- 
ing known  as  the  post  office. 

His  hands  were  full  of  letters  and  papers  that  he 
had  just  taken  from  his  private  box  in  the  post 
office,  and  which  he  stuffed  into  his  pockets,  as  he 
carefully  picked  his  steps  among  the  various  boxes, 
and  bundles,  and  numberless  things  in  the  way  of 
encumbrances  with  which  the  sidewalk  was  almost 
blocked. 

The  scene  was  not  new  to  him.  He  was  looking 
about  him  absently  rather  than  attentively,  till  he 
caught  sight  of  Stargarde  coming  over  the  crossing 
from  the  near  Provincial  Building,  accompanied  by 
her  solemn  black  dog.  She  had  a  little  basket  on 
her  arm,  and  was  evidently  about  to  follow  the 
custom  of  many  Halifax  housekeepers  who  on 
Saturday  mornings  do  their  marketing  themselves. 

A  glad  light,  almost  instantly  repressed,  leaped 
to  his  face  when  he  saw  her.     "  Good-morning," 

281 


282 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


.M 


II  '• 


U 


he  said,  quietly  touching  his  cap,  and  acting  as 
though  he  were  about  to  pass  her  by. 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  speak  to  me  ?  "  she  in- 
quired with  a  gracious  smile  and  extending  a  hand 
to  him.      "  I  wish  to  praise  you  a  little." 

"  For  what  ?  "  he  inquired,  opening  his  eyes, 
through  which  he  had  been  looking  in  a  squinting 
fashion  at  her. 

"  For  your  goodness  in  not  coming  to  see  me. 
I  think  I  shall  have  to  start  a  system  of  cards  of 
merit,  and  bestow  them  upon  you  at  regular 
intervals." 

He  smiled  peculiarly.  "  I  mustn't  take  too  much 
credit  to  myself ;  you  have  given  me  a  new  interest 
in  life." 

"  Yes  ;  Zeb.  I  am  longing  to  talk  to  you  about 
her.  Can  you  not  walk  about  with  me  while  I  do 
my  marketing  ?  then  we  can  have  a  little  talk  after- 
ward. You  don't  stay  in  your  office  Saturday  morn- 
ings, I  think." 

"  No,*'  and  hypocritically  concealing  his  ex- 
travagant joy,  he  turned  and  walked  beside  her. 
"You  have  a  very  high  color  this  morning,  Star- 
garde,"  he  said  demurely.  "  I  hope  that  you  are 
not  feverish. 

"Why,  it  is  cold,  Brian,  very  cold  for  Halifax. 
Don't  you  feel  the  chill  in  the  air  ?  " 

"  No,"  indifferently,  and  swinging  open  his  coat. 
"  I  am  never  cold ;   don't  feel  a  lowering  of  the 


ON    MARKET   DAY 


283 


temperature  any  more  than  our  friends  the  market 
women.  Just  look  at  them,  Stargarde,"  and  with  a 
sudden  interest  in  his  surroundings,  now  that  he 
was  no  longer  alone,  he  pointed  to  the  unique 
spectacle  before  them. 

The  people  in  the  market  on  this  particular 
morning  were  mostly  colored.  Their  rough  sleds, 
many  of  which  were  drawn  by  oxen,  were  ranged 
along  the  gutters  close  to  the  pavements.  In  most 
cases  the  animals  had  been  taken  out,  and  were 
fastened  to  telegraph  poles,  railings,  anywhere  that 
the  ingenious  Negro  could  find  a  rod  or  a  staff 
around  which  to  twine  a  rope.  A  few  of  the  oxen 
were  tethered  to  the  tailboards  of  their  sleds  and 
stood  patiently  munching  wisps  of  hay,  and  sur- 
veying their  owners  with  kind,  pathetic  eyes. 

One  woman  who  had  had  the  good  fortune  to 
dispose  of  her  stock,  was  just  about  leaving  the 
market,  skillfully  guiding  through  the  crowded 
street  her  tandem  pair,  consisting  of  a  cow  and  an 
attenuated  horse,  the  horse  leading. 

"  Look  at  her,"  said  Camperdown.  "  Happy  as  a 
queen  !  She  has  sold  her  stuff,  and  sits  enthroned 
on  a  bundle  of  old  clothes,  and  a  few  packages  of 
flour  and  sugar  and  a  jug  of  molasses  that  she's 
taking  home  to  her  pickaninnies.  You  won't  see 
many  'carriage  ladies'  with  an  expression  like  that. 
What's  this  ?  *  Cow  for  sail,' "  and  he  read  the  placard 
hanging  over  the  neck  of  a  dirty  white  animal  tied 


284 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


51 


to  a  telegraph  pole.  "  When  does  that  cow  sail  ?  " 
to  a  melancholy-looking  Negro  standing  near,  whose 
two  huge,  protruding  lips  curled  back  like  pink-lined 
breakers  over  the  foam-li>e  whiteness  of  a  jagged 
reef  of  teeth. 

"She'll  sail  now,  mister,  if  you  can  raise  de 
wind,"  said  the  man  with  a  depressed  yet  amiable 
smile. 

**  Ah,  Brian,  the  biter  bitten,"  observed  Stargarde 
laughingly. 

"  He's  gut  out  three  sheets  now,  I  b'lieve,  missis," 
the  Negro  went  on  inexorably.  "  You  white  folkses 
be  always  a  makin'  fun  of  us  Niggers,"  with  an 
apologetic  grin. 

"Oh,  take  in  sail,  take  in  sail,"  said  Camper- 
down,  pointing  to  the  obnoxious  placard. 

"  Guess  I  better,  if  *n  it's  goin'  to  send  all  the  white 
people  into  gales  of  high  sterricks,"  said  the  colored 
man  agreeably.  "  You  he's  the  secon'  or  third  lot 
what  has  come  to  anchor  here,  gigglin'  and  laughin'. 
What's  wrong  wid  the  card,  missis  ?  " 

"Only  one  word,"  said  Stargarde  gently,  "which 
is  usually  spelt  s-a-l-e,  rather  than  s-a-i-1,  when  one 
has  anything  to  sell." 

"Thank  you  kin'ly,  missis.  I'll  altercate  it,"  and 
he  lazily  watched  the  two  people  going  on  their 
way. 

"  Here  are  eggs,"  said  Camperdown,  "  big,  white 
ones,  Stargarde,  and  butter  like  gold." 


ON    MARKET    DAY 


285 


Stargarde  stopped  beside  a  shy-faced  French 
woman,  who  was  standing  guard  over  a  wagon,  and 
asked  her  how  much  her  eggs  were  a  dozen. 

"  Dwenty-vive  cent,  madam." 

"  I  will  take  two  dozen,  if  you  please,  and  four 
prints  of  butter." 

Camperdown  looked  at  the  woman,  and  seeing 
that  he  was  looking  at  her,  she  immediately  dropped 
her  eyes.  She  was  tall  and  neatly  dressed,  and 
wore  a  black  shawl  over  her  hair  and  pinned  under 
her  chin.  *'A  Chezzencooker,"  he  muttered,  then 
aloud,  "  What  else  have  you  ?  " 

"Smells,  zur  ;  dirty  sents  a  ztring." 

"  Don't  want  any  of  them  ;  enough  bad  odors  in 
Halifax  now." 

**  Smelts,  Brian,"  corrected  Stargarde.  "  He 
doesn't  understand  French,"  she  said  kindly  to  the 
woman. 

"  Beg  pardon,  I  do  ;  once  got  a  prize  at  school  for 
extensive  knowledge  of  the  language.  Needn't  tell 
her  I  was  the  only  one  in  the  class,"  in  a  lower  tone. 

**  And  you  have  ducks,  and  chickens,  and  cherry 
bark  tied  up  in  neat,  little  bundles,  haven't  you  ?  " 
Stargarde  went  on  ;  "  also  woolen  socks  and  sarsa- 
parilla.  You  must  get  some  of  the  latter,  Brian. 
Hannah  will  make  you  some  tea.  She  says  it  is 
good  for  the  blood." 

"Give  me  ten  bundles,  madam,"  he  said  oblig- 
ingly. 


286 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


'M 


[|| 


':  V !; 


**  I  have  only  vive,"  said  the  Frenchwoman,  rais- 
ing her  eyes  just  long  enough  to  glance  at  the  man, 
who  seemed  to  be  a  very  bold  kind  of  monster  to 
her. 

"  Very  well,  give  me  the  five ;  and  in  addition 
those  little  brooms.  They  will  do  for  Hannah  to 
sweep  her  hearth." 

"  I  buy  zem  for  myself,  zur,"  said  the  woman 
hastily.  **  We  make  no  brooms  ;  'tis  the  Neegurs 
that  does." 

"Ah,"  politely.  "I  understand.  Infra  digni- 
tatem. Thank  you,  madam,"  and  he  put  his  par- 
cel of  sarsaparilla  under  his  arm.  "  Whom  does 
she  remind  you  of  ?  "  he  asked  Stargarde  as  they 
went  on. 

"  Vivienne,  naturally ;  but  Brian,  the  Chezzencook 
people  are  not  the  same  as  the  Digby  and  Yar- 
mouth French,  are  they?" 

"  No ;  a  different  lot  Came  here  at  another 
time.     French  though." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  know  that  What  is  happening 
here  ?  Brian,  let  us  stand  back  and  watch  them. 
I  do  love  colored  people." 

They  withdrew  a  little  from  the  moving  stream 
of  passers-by  on  the  sidewalk,  and  accompanied  by 
the  dog  placed  their  backs  against  the  building. 
In  front  of  them  was  a  group  of  colored  men  and 
women,  all  warmly  bundled  in  odds  and  ends  of 
clothing,  and  laughing,  chattering,  and  joking  in 


ON    MARKET    DAY 


287 


the  "  wisely  careless,  innocently  gay  "  fashion  pecu- 
liar to  their  race. 

"Small  wonder  that  they  do  not  feel  the  cold," 
said  Camperdown.  "Just  look  at  the  clothes  they 
have  on.  Talk  about  Edinburgh  fishwives,  they 
only  wear  seventeen  petticoats.  This  stout  dame 
has  on  seventy  at  least,  haven't  you,  auntie?"  he 
asked,  as  a  middle-aged  colored  woman  approached 
them  to  get  a  basket,  which  was  like  a  little,  gay 
garden  spot  on  the  frozen  snow,  so  filled  was  it 
with  bunches  of  wintergreen  and  verdant  ferns, 
dyed  grasses,  long  and  feathers^  and  heapr:  of  red 
maple  leaves,  carefully  pressed  and  wa>.ed  to  pre- 
serve their  flaming  tints. 

"  Hasn't  I  what,  chile  ?  "  she  asked,  taking  her 
short,  black  pipe  from  her  mouth,  and  regarding 
him  with  a  beaming,  ebony  face. 

"Aren't  you  pretty  well  protected  against  the  in- 
clemency of  the  weather?"  he  inquired  meekly. 

"  I  don't  know  what  'clemency  be,  but  the 
weather,  good  Ian*,  I  knows  that  Has  to  dress 
accordin'.  Look  at  me  feet,  chile,"  and  she  held 
up  a  substantial  pair  of  men's  long-legged  boots. 
"  Inside  that  I've  got  on  socks.  Inside  that  agin, 
women's  stockin's.  And  I've  got  on  other  wearin' 
apparels  belongin'  to  men  too,  and  Jemima  Jane's 
dress,  and  Grandmother  Brown's  and  me  own  ole 
frock,  and  on  me  head  I  puts  a  cloud,  and  on  me 
cloud  I  puts  a  cap,  and  on  me  arms  three  pair  o* 


288 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


i 


stockin'  legs,  and  on  me  bans  two  pair  o*  mitts,  an' 
over  all  I  puts  me  b  js'  Sunday-go-to-meetin*  mantle, 
what  I  wears  to  the  baptizins,  an'  here  an'  there," 
mysteriously,  "a  few  other  happenins,"  and  bend- 
ing over  her  basket  she  closed  her  thick  lips  on  her 
pipe. 

Camperdown  watched  her  gravely. 

"  If  you  was  a  colored  gemman,  an'  had  to  ris* 
in  the  middle  o'  the  night,  an*  bile  your  kettle,  an' 
feed  your  pig,  an  breakfus  your  young  uns,  an  hitch 
your  ox,"  she  said  presently,  straightening  herself 
up  and  laughing  all  over  her  face  at  him,  •*  an  drive 
a  thought  o'  twelve  mile  to  town,  an'  stan'  till  gun 
fire,  and  perform  your  week's  buyin',  an'  peregren- 
ize  home  over  the  Preston  roads,  which  is  main  bad 
this  weather,  you'd  habit  yourself  mebbe  worsen  I 
do,  an'  not  look  so  handsum  nuther." 

Roguishly  winking  at  him,  she  elevated  her  long 
basket  to  the  top  of  her  head  and  walked  away, 
her  back  as  straight  as  a  soldier's.  With  never  a 
hand  put  up  to  steady  the  nodding,  swaying  garden 
spot  atop  of  her  head,  she  guided  herself  among  the 
crowd  of  people,  her  manifold  tier  of  petticoats 
bobbing  behind  her  like  the  tail  of  a  gigantic  bird, 
and  presently  disappeared. 

"  Good  souls,  those  colored  people,"  ejaculated 
Camperdown,  looking  after  her.  "They  live  on 
their  spirits.  Oh,  look  here,  Stargarde,"  and  he 
drew  some  envelopes  from  his  pocket.     **  Flora  is 


!  it:; 


M 


ON    MARKET    DAY 


289 


IS 


chameleonizing.  She's  going  to  give  a  dance  for 
ma'm'selle.  Read  that  invitation  card.  I  frightened 
her  into  civility." 

"  Poor  Vivienne,"  said  Stargarde. 

"  Happy  Vivienne  ;  she  enjoys  herself  It's  mar- 
velous to  see  the  coolness  with  which  she  treats 
Flora — the  right  line  of  conduct  to  adopt.  If  she 
were  meek  and  humble,  Flora  would  impose  upon 
her  shamefully.  They're  going  to  have  some  lively 
times  at  Pinewood,  and  that  girl  will  be  the  leading 
spirit.  I  suppose  you've  noticed  that  Stanton  is 
taking  rather  more  interest  than  usual  in  her?  " 

"  Yes ;  take  care,  Brian ;  take  care.  You  are 
playing  at  match-making,  and  it  is  a  dangerous 
game." 

"Well,"  stoutly,  "as  you  women  nowadays  are 
so  busy  attending  to  departments  of  public  good, 
what  is  there  for  men  to  do  but  take  up  the  private 
ones,  such  as  the  making  of  marriages?  Don't 
alarm  yourself  though,  I  don't  do  much ;  only  say 
a  word  now  and  then." 

"  But  your  words  have  weight." 

"I  am  glad  they  have,"  sarcastically,  "with  some 
people." 

"  In  your  zeal  for  Stanton's  interests  I  hope  you 
will  do  nothing  to  bias  Vivienne ;  she  may  fancy 
Valentine." 

"  Is  thy  servant  a  sneak  ?  "  he  asked  in  an  injured 
tone  of  voice.     "And  that  is  Stanton's  affair,  not 


u 


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THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


mine.  He  will  be  as  just  as  the  Lord  Chancellor ; 
but  ma'm'selle  doesn't  love  Valentine.  He's  too 
young  ;  Stanton  is  just  the  age  for  her  ;  he  isn't  so 
old  as  his  years.  He  got  frozen  when  he  was  a  lad, 
and  has  stayed  frozen  ever  since.  Frost  preserves 
you  know.  I  want  to  see  him  melt  now,  and  dance 
for  some  woman  the  way  the  rest  of  us  do." 

"  Brian,  it  makes  me  nervous  to  hear  you  plan- 
ning so  surely  on  a  thing  that  may  never  come  to 
pass." 

"Stanton  is  all  right,"  he  continued,  rather  as  if 
he  were  soliloquizing  ;  •*  but  you  women  are  uncer- 
tain qualities.  That  he  will  fall  in  love  with  her  is 
a  foregone  conclusion.  He  rarely  goes  anj^where  ; 
never  has  been  brought  into  intimacy  with  any 
woman  for  any  length  of  time  ;  propinquity  makes 
a  man  either  hate  or  love  a  woman.  He's  disliked 
her  long  enough  ;  can't  keep  it  up.  There  will  be 
a  tremendous  rebound  that  will  nearly  shake  the 
life  out  of  him  ;  but  will  she  reciprocate  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  how  she  can  help  it,"  said  Stargarde 
impulsively ;  and  the  mere  thought  of  Stanton  be- 
loved and  happy,  touched  her  tender  heart  and 
filled  her  eyes  with  tears. 

"Nor  I,"  said  Camperdown,  with  mock  enthu- 
siasm. "  Such  a  sweet  and  tender  bit  of  marble  as 
he  is  !  Such  a  loving  block  of  wood  !  But  you 
women  like  such  creatures." 

Stargarde  paid  no  attention  to  him.     "And  Val- 


ON    MARKET    DAY 


291 


entine  too,"  she  went  on  earnestly,  "  I  do  wish  that 
he  could  fall  under  the  influence  of  some  good 
girl." 

"  If  he  wants  a  good  girl  let  him  be  a  good  boy," 
coolly.  "That's  your  own  doctrine,  Stargarde. 
Pray  don't  make  an  exception  in  favor  of  Valen- 
tine, when  you've  been  so  firm  with  the  rest  of  the 
world.  You're  one  of  the  new  women,  you  know. 
'  A  white  life  for  two,'  isn't  that  your  motto  ?  Same 
thorny  path  of  virtue  for  men  and  women." 

"Not  thorny,  Brian." 

"Sometimes  I've  found  it  so.  Just  think  of  all 
the  pleasant  little  dissipations  I  might  have  had  if 
you  hadn't  been  watching  me  with  that  lynx  eye 
of  yours.  No  use  to  come  to  you  and  say,  *  Dear 
creature,  will  you  take  a  tenth  place  in  my  affec- 
tions, after  cards,  wine,  and  other  things  not  worth 
mentioning?'  I  know  what's  in  your  mind  now. 
You're  a  true  woman  and  have  a  sneaking  fondness 
for  vagabonds.  You  love  Stanton  ;  but  you  think 
he's  a  strong  man  and  can  stand  alone.  You  adore 
Valentine,  and  if  either  brother  gets  ma'm'selle, 
you  think  it  should  be  the  weakling,  whose  totter- 
ing footsteps  need  guidance.  Come  now,  tell  me, 
would  you  give  the  French  girl  to  Valentine  if  it 
depended  on  you  ?  " 

She  hesitated.  "  Not  as  he  is  now  ;  but  we  are 
commanded  to  forgive  those  who  repent." 

"Repent;   nonsense,    my   dar — my   dear   Miss 


I' 


11   I 


292 


THE  HOUSE  OF  ARMOUR 


Turner.  Can  repentance  change  the  corpuscles  in 
a  man's  blood?  He  sha'n't  have  her,  dissipated 
young  scamp  that  he  is.  You  wouldn't  allow  it 
yourself  if  it  came  to  the  pinch.  No ;  let  ma'm'- 
selle  shake  him  out  of  his  abominable  state  of  self- 
complacency,  if  you  will,  but  no  marriage.  A  sis- 
terly affection  is  what  she  must  bestow  upon  him. 
She'll  tell  him  some  wholesome  truths  if  she  gets 
to  know  him  better.  I  hope  she  may.  He's  been 
stepping  over  thorns  all  his  life.  I'd  like  to  see 
him  lie  down  now,  and  have  a  good  roll  in  them." 

"  Brian ! "  and  Stargarde  looked  appealingly 
into  the  piercing  eyes  of  her  tormentor  and  lover. 

"  It  would  do  him  good,"  he  said,  '*  and  we'd 
help  to  dress  his  wounds  afterward.  And  the  little 
French  girl  would  be  amiable  enough  to  help  to  give 
consolation." 

Stargarde  sighed.  **  Why  do  you  so  often  call 
her  little?     She  is  tall." 

*'  Oh,  it's  a  mannish  fagon  de  parler.  Men  al- 
ways say  that  about  women  they  like." 

** Do  they?"  wonderingly.  "I  haven't  noticed 
it." 

"I  dare  say  not  Men  as  a  rule  don't  like  big 
women." 

"  Indeed ! " 

**  No ;  they  do  not.  I  heard  a  man  the  other 
day  speaking  of  a  lovely  creature,  *But,'  he  said, 
'she  is  too  big  to  love.'  " 


ON    MARKET    DAY 


293 


V 


it 


Stargarde  looked  disturbed.  "  Was  I  the  woman, 
Brian?  "  she  said  sweetly,  almost  childishly. 

"Well — I  would  have  throttled  him  if  he  had 
said  anything  else." 

"And  do  you  find  me  so — so  immense?  "  draw- 
ing herself  up  to  the  full  height  of  her  charming 
and  exquisitely  proportioned  figure. 

"  Immense  ;  yes.     Quite  immense." 

She  scanned  his  face  with  an  inteniness  that  gave 
him  the  keenest  pleasure,  though  he  deceitfully  pre- 
tended to  be  very  much  absorbed  by  a  passing 
sleigh. 

"  Stargarde,"  he  said,  when  the  sleigh  had  passed 
them,  "  you  were  criticising  me  just  now,  will  you 
allow  me  to  perform  the  same  kind  office  for 
you  ?  " 

"Certainly,"  with  the  utmost  cheerfulness  in 
tone  and  manner. 

"  You  said  that  I  am  getting  frivolous.  In  your 
character  too,  I  see  signs  of  weakening.  There  is 
rather  an  alarming  symptom  showing  itself,  of  def- 
erence to  the  opinions  of  other  people  who  are 
very  much  less  clever  than  you,  myself  for  ex- 
ample. You  have  always  been  so  strong,  Star- 
garde  ;  have  stood  alone.  Now  you  are  becoming 
weak,  deteriorating,  getting  to  be  like  other  women. 
I  would  check  it,  if  I  were  you,  this  inclination 
toward  the  commonplace,  the — the  childish,  if  I 
may  mention  the  word  in  your  connection.     Per- 


|i  hi 


i\W     i 


294 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


haps,  though,  the  mental  weakness  follows  upon  a 
physical  one.     Aren't  you  well  and  happy?  " 

She  was  very  much  discomposed.  **  Yes,  Brian, 
I  am  well  and  happy ;  yet,  I  don't  know  what 
it  is  lately,  there  seems  to  be  a  vague  disquiet 
about  me.  Perhaps  I  have  been  doing  more  than 
I  should." 

"That  must  be  it,"  soothingly.  "You  are  work- 
ing too  hard.  I  will  give  you  a  tonic.  Now  let  us 
walk  down  toward  the  harbor  and  talk  about  Zeb. 
You  received  my  note  ?  " 

"Yes,"  the  expression  of  her  face  suddenly 
changing,  "and  I  was  so  glad  that  I  cried  over  it." 

"  If  your  gladness  had  taken  the  form  of  coming 
to  see  her,  I  should  have  been  better  pleased,"  he 
said  complainingly. 

"  I  decided  that  it  was  better  to  leave  her  wholly 
to  you  for  a  time." 

"  Look  at  this,"  he  said,  drawing  a  paper  from 
his  inside  pocket.  "  Isn't  she  going  a  pretty  pace 
for  a  sometime  ragamuffin  ?  " 

It  was  a  milliner's  bill  for  twenty  dollars,  for  one 
felt  hat  trimmed  with  ostrich  plumes. 

Oh,  Brian,  what  did  you  do  about  it?" 
Paid  it.  You  must  know  that  my  Zeb,  or  Zilla 
as  she  prefers  to  be  called — ^she  says  Zeb  is  vulgar — 
has  fully  made  up  her  mind  to  become  a  young  lady 
of  fashion.  She  hasn't  got  farther  than  the  skin  of 
decent  people  yet,  and  clothes  to  her  are  the  token  of 


(I 


(( 


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respectability  inside  and  out.  I  am  reading  *  Sartor 
Resartus*  to  her,  but  it  hasn't  made  much  impres- 
sion yet.  Starting  on  the  road  to  fashion  she  has 
resolved  to  drag  me  after  her.  I  suppose  you 
didn't  notice  my  new  raiment?  " 

"Yes,  I  did,"  said  Stargarde,  surveying  the  re- 
markably neat  check  of  his  tweed  suit.  "  I  never 
saw  you  look  so  smart,  Brian." 

"  Zilla  hadn't  been  in  the  house  three  days  before 
she  ransacked  my  wardrobe.  Said  it  was — ^well, 
Mrs.  Trotley  says  she  swore  like  a  'longshoreman 
at  the  shabbiness  of  it.  She  stationed  herself  at 
the  window  and  took  observations.  Little  minx, 
like  a  Halifax  girl  born  and  bred,  she  has  taken  to 
scarlet  fever  as  naturally  as  a  fish  uses  its  fins. 
Dotes  on  the  military ;  would  put  me  in  a  uniform 
if  she  could.  Next  to  uniform  she  admires  morn- 
ing clothes  of  officers.  She  sketched  one  fellow 
top  to  toe  for  me,  collar,  tie,  trousers,  coat,  boots ; 
had  her  pencil  and  paper  behind  window  curtains  ; 
then  badgered  me  till  I  went  to  the  tailor's.  Told  her 
I  wouldn't  ape  any  man's  garments,  but  would  buy 
new  fit-out.  Have  a  collar  on  that  almost  saws  my 
neck  off,  see,"  and  he  held  up  his  head.  "Do  you 
like  the  pattern  of  my  tie,  Stargarde  ?  " 

"  Very  much,"  said  the  woman  laughingly.  "  It 
is  too  delightful  to  think  of  Zeb — Zilla's  dictating 
to  you." 

"  I  knew  you'd  enjoy  it.     Little  witch  made  me 


f'..' 


n 


296 


THE   HOUSE  OF  ARMOUR 


go  to  church  with  her,  to  show  off  my  new  things 
she  said.  She  is  a  fearful  heathen.  Wish  you  could 
have  seen  us  Sunday  filing  into  church,  I  and  my 
respectable  family.  Mrs.  Tiotley  always  looks,  as 
she  is,  a  lady.  Zilla  is  like  a  demon  in  frocks,  with 
those  wild  eyes  of  hers.  She  drew  a  long  breath 
when  we  got  inside  the  doors,  as  if  she  were  going 
into  a  shower  bath,  clutched  my  hand,  and  regu- 
larly mowed  down  the  people  with  her  eyes  as  she 
gazed  defiantly  about  her.  She  would  have  slapped 
any  one  that  laughed. 

"  I  felt  almost  as  queer — haven't  been  to  church 
for  months.  Zilla  got  in  a  fearful  tangle  with  the 
service,  but  she  is  not  the  child  to  quail  before  a 
ritual.  All  this  week  she  has  been  sitting  with 
prayer-book  in  her  hand.  Mrs.  Trotley  is  teaching 
her  to  find  places,  and  I  hear  '  Good  Lord  deliver 
us'  and  the  'Apostles*  Creed'  from  every  corner 
of  the  house.  When  ladies  come  to  call  on  Mrs. 
Trotley  she  won't  see  them,  or  if  she  does,  she 
talks  French.  I  happened  to  be  in  the  house  the 
other  afternoon — ^she  had  run  to  meet  me,  and  two 
'old  Miss  Bellinghams  caught  her.  She  rarely  loses 
self-possession.  ^C'mont  allez-vousf  she  said  in  a 
meek,  put-on-voice.  Her  French  is  remarkable, 
her  own  composition  mostly.  The  like  was  never 
heard  before  nor  will  be  again.  '  Don't  you  talk 
English  ? '  they  asked.  '  A  leetle,'  she  replied ;  '/<? 
prefaire  to  par  lee  frangais'     Poor  little  brat,  she  is 


^♦^' 


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297 


I 


afraid  that  her  vile  English  will  give  her  away.  She 
is  taking  utmost  pains  to  speak  well.  Makes  me 
correct  every  mistake." 

"And  she  loves  you,  Brian,"  said  Stargarde  in  a 
delighted  voice  and  with  flashing  eyes. 

"  I  suppose  so.  Follows  me  like  a  dog  about  the 
house.  Embraces  frequently.  Makes  my  money 
fly  too,  which  is  proof  of  feminine  affection.  First 
day  or  two  she  was  very  quiet — not  overcome,  she 
has  been  about  too  much  for  that — but  sizing  us 
up.  Then  she  began  to  overturn  ;  old  Hannah 
must  go  and  live  with  her  son.  I  put  my  foot 
down  there.  Hannah  must  stay.  Zilla  swore  a 
little,  but  was  pacified  by  an  offer  of  two  maids  to 
attend  properly  to  the  house.  New  furniture  has 
been  bought,  likewise  flower  pots,  bird  cages,  and 
such  trash.     I  expect  she'll  ruin  me." 

In  silent  ecstasy,  Stargarde  gazed  at  him.  Then 
she  tapped  the  paper  in  her  hands.  "  What  about 
this  hat,  Brian  ?     Did  you  let  her  wear  it  ?  " 

"  No  ;  she  threw  it  in  the  fire.  I  told  her  ladies 
wore  fine  hats  ;  children  plain  ones.  She  first  got 
into  a  rage  and  danced  and  used  bad  language, 
then  hurled  plumes  and  hat  into  the  grate,  and  her- 
self at  my  boots." 

"Could  not  Mrs.  Trotley  have  prevented  her 
from  buying  it?" 

"  The  old  lady  is  as  wax  in  her  hands.  No  one 
can  manage  her." 


1  I 


If:  i 


m 


ift't; 

"'" 

m 

■:p 

*^|.*  ^■ 

1 

'1: '    - 

■i' 

1  '"'^ 

il'<  . 

g  '■ 

^'i: 

H 

1  i 


298 


THE   HOUSE  OF  ARMOUR 


"  But  you,  Brian,  you  can." 

**  Well,  yes ;  I  have  to ;  she'd  override  every- 
thing." 

"Are  you  going  to  send  her  to  school? " 

**  Not  yet.  I  give  her  lessons,  and  Mrs.  Trotley 
helps  her  to  learn  them.  She's  the  most  indulgent 
bit  of  femininity  that  I  could  have  found  for  Zilla." 

"And  you  are  pleased,  Brian,  that  you  took  the 
child?" 

"  Yes ;  she  has  given  me  an  object  in  life.  I 
couldn't  endure  a  stupid  child.  She  is  as  smart  as 
one  of  the  saucy  sparrows  about  our  streets  ;  she  is 
a  sparrow — and  you  are  like  one  of  those  beautiful 
gulls  circling  in  the  pure  air  overhead,"  he  thought 
to  himself,  taking  care  not  to  utter  the  latter  senti- 
ment aloud  ;  "  and  I  am  like  one  of  those  big, 
ugly  crows  yonder  on  the  beach,"  he  reflected  fur- 
ther, "  hopping  over  his  mates  with  eyes  bent  on 
the  stones  to  see  that  he  gets  his  share  of  the  shell- 
fish. And  by  and  by  the  white-winged  gull  will 
come  down  and  sit  quietly  beside  that  old  crow. 
And  he  will  slay  mollusks  for  himself  and  her  too. 
I  beg  your  pardon  ;  what  were  you  saying?  " 

"  That  I  would  like  to  see  Zilla.  I  will  call  to- 
morrow." 

"  Come  this  evening,"  hospitably,  "  and  have  din- 
ner with  us.  I  will  telephone  for  ma'm'selle  and 
Judy,  if  you  will." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Stargarde,  critically  examin- 


ON    MARKET   DAY 


299 


to- 


, 


ing  his  face  to  see  whether  there  was  any  feverish 
anxiety  visible  that  she  should  accept  the  invitation. 
There  was  not  "  I  really  believe,"  she  reflected, 
her  blue  eyes  sparkling  like  the  waves  beyond  them, 
"that  the  child  is  weaning  him  from  me.  I  am 
overjoyed,"  and  she  really  fancied  that  she  was. 

By  the  quick  insight  of  love  he  was  well  aware 
of  what  was  passing  in  her  mind.  "You  little 
guess,  beautiful  bird,"  he  thought,  as  he  walked 
with  his  gaze  bent  on  the  ground,  "why  it  is  that 
your  protegee  has  become  the  light  of  my  eyes." 

"  Yes  ;  I  will  come,"  she  said  at  last.  "  I  shall 
enjoy  doing  so." 

"You  will  see  a  change  in  Zilla  even  in  this 
short  time.  Regular  diet  and  an  untroubled  mind 
are  doing  wonders  for  her.  Her  cheeks  are  filling 
out  Her  hair,  now  that  it  is  properly  taken  care 
of,  looks  no  longer  like  Gorgon  locks.  I  daresay 
she  may  turn  out  to  be  a  beauty.  Her  eyes  are 
not  so  civilized  as  ma'm'selle's,  but  when  she  gets 
that  wild  stare  out  of  them,  they  will  be  just  as  at- 
tractive. That  foreign  streak  in  her  blood  makes 
her  uncommon — an  uncommon  liar  too.  Wish  I 
could  get  her  to  stop  it" 

"  Does  she  tell  many  stories  ?  " 

"  Not  to  me.  She  is  an  acute  little  liar.  Rarely 
gets  trapped.  I  told  her  the  Lord  would  punish  her 
if  she  didn't  stop  imposing  on  Mrs.  Trotley  and  Han- 
nah.   She  said  that  wouldn't  be  fair.    Ifthe  Lord  had 


^i 


300 


THE   HOUSE  OF   ARMOUR 


wanted  her  to  be  truthful  he  shouldn't  have  given  her 
to  her  mother  to  bring  up,  for  she  told  lies  oftener 
than  the  truth.  I  reminded  her  that  ladies  didn't 
lie — may  I  be  forgiven  !  That  made  a  profound  im- 
pression, and  I  can  see  an  improvement  She  won't 
steal.  Says  it  is — no,  I  can't  tell  you  what  she 
said.  Her  language  is  forcible  at  times.  She  is 
brave — brave  as  a  tigress ;  would  kill  any  one,  I 
think,  that  laid  a  hand  on  me." 

"  She  will  get  over  her  faults  in  time,"  said  Star- 
garde.  "Think  of  her  wild,  undisciplined  life  so 
far.  Oh,  Brian,  if  I  could  only  tell  you  what  a 
noble  thing  you  have  done  in  taking  Zeb.  It  is 
not  the  little,  perishable  body  alone  that  you  are 
caring  for,  but  the  immortal  soul  as  well.  There  is 
something  about  the  child  that  appeals  to  me 
strangely.  I  felt  it  to  be  a  heart-breaking  thing 
that  she  should  be  with  those  depraved  creatures, 
her  parents." 

*'  Brutes,"  said  Camperdown.  "  The  devil's  own. 
He  will  get  them." 

"  Not  the  devil's  own ;  the  Lord's  own,  Brian. 
He  has  not  given  them  up." 

"  I  think  he  has — one  of  them." 

"Which  one?" 

"The  mother,  Mrs.  Frispi,  as  she  calls  herself" 

"  We  shall  see.  Zilla's  good  fortune  may  make 
the  mother  more  kindly  disposed  toward  us.  She 
may  allow  me  to  talk  to  her  in  time." 


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301 


**  I  wish  that  you  would  let  her  alone,"  he  said 
hastily. 

"  Nay,  Brian,  I  cannot  promise  you  that ;  and 
now  I  must  go  back  to  the  Pavilion." 

He  stood,  cap  in  hand,  looking  after  her  as  she 
walked  away  with  a  light  firm  step. 

'•  Very  carefully  I  spread  a  net  for  you,  beautiful 
bird,"  he  muttered  enjoyably;  "and  you  slightly 
tangled  your  adored  feet  in  it,  and  after  you  have 
fluttered  awhile  I  will  set  you.  free.  The  best  of  it 
is  T'ou  haven't  a  suspicion  of  it.  You're  dead  in 
lovc,  beautiful  bird,  and  I'm  trying  to  let  you  know 
it,"  and  he  chuckled  to  himself 

"  She's  saintly ;  very  saindy,"  he  went  on,  after 
a  time  ;  "  makes  me  feel  vicious  by  comparison.  ^ 
guess  I'll  go  to  tease  Stanton,"  and  swinging  on  his 
heel  he  walked  at  a  brisk  pace  along  Water  Street, 
gnmy,  dirty  Water  Street,  smelling  of  fish  and  oil 
and  tar,  and  having  more  individuality  than  all  the 
other  streets  of  the  town  put  together. 


KMf  >,{ 
WW 


■Jit    p 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


AN    ANSWERED   QUESTION 


TRUCKS,  low  sleds,  and  huge  wagons  emerged  in 
a  steady  stream  from  lanes  leading  down  to 
the  wharves,  where  ships  great  and  small  lay  moored. 
Rumbling  out  of  these  lanes  with  much  noise  and 
cracking  of  whips  from  impatient  drivers,  these  heavy 
vehicles  were  a  constant  menace  to  unwary  passers- 
by. 

Dr.  Camperdown  having  relapsed  into  a  reflective 
mood  had  a  number  of  narrow  escapes.  Jumping 
aside  just  in  time,  he  went  on  his  way,  brushing 
heedlessly  along  by  sailors,  hoarse-voiced  captains 
of  fishing  craft  who  wore  bright-colored  scarfs 
around  their  throats,  the  few  women  who  appeared 
in  the  street,  and  an  occasional  shivering  child, 
running  with  a  few  cents  in  its  hand  to  the  nearest 
eating-place  for  something  to  supplement  a  late 
breakfast 

At  frequent  intervals  he  passed  by  clothing  shops, 

whose  dangling  garments  of  oilskin,  fur  rugs,  and 

woolen  wraps   formed  numerous   little    arbors    in 

front  of  their  entrance  doors.     Once  a  swinging 

line  of  rough  socks  caught  in  his  cap,  was  impa- 
302 


AN    ANSWERED   QUESTION 


303 


|ops, 
and 
in 

ipa- 


tiently  swept  aside,  and  fell  to  the  ice  and  snow  on 
the  pavement.  The  irate  shopkeeper  rushed  out, 
and  sent  a  volley  of  bad  language  after  him,  which 
Camperdown  listened  to  complacently,  and  then 
strode  on  without  replying. 

At  last  he  arrived  in  front  of  the  place  he  sought 
— a  substantial,  brick  building  with  Armour  &  Son, 
Cobequid  Warehouse,  in  gilt  letters  across  its  wide 
archway. 

He  wished  to  go  down  the  wharf  to  Mr.  Ar- 
mour's office,  and  passing  under  the  heads  of  a 
pair  of  mules  that  were  dragging  a  load  of  barrels 
of  flour  out  into  the  street,  he  followed  a  narrow, 
plank  walk  at  the  side  of  the  building,  occasionally 
glancing  up  as  he  did  so  at  the  rows  of  barred, 
prison-like  windows  above  him. 

"A  more  ponderous  erection  this,  than  the  first 
one,"  he  said  half  aloud.  "Wonder  how  long  it 
will  stand  ?  'Till  after  poor  Stanton  is  in  his  grave 
probably  ; "  and  opening  a  door  before  him,  he 
stepped  into  a  small  passage  which  gave  private 
entrance  to  Mr.  Armour's  office. 

A  tap  at  the  door  and  he  was  permitted  to  enter 
by  a  curt,  "Come  in." 

In  a  good-sized  room  of  moderate  height  sat  the 
virtual  head  of  the  Armour  firr  \  a  pen  between  his 
fingers,  his  eye  engaged  in  running  up  and  down 
the  columns  of  an  account  book  that  he  held 
propped  up  before  him. 


304 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


The  doors  of  the  massive  safes  sunk  into  the  wall, 
stood  half  open  ;  inside  could  be  seen  in  compart- 
ments, filed  papers,  rows  of  books,  and  small  pad- 
locked boxes.  On  the  wall  hung  calendars,  the 
signal  service  system  of  the  port  of  Halifax,  a  map 
of  Nova  Scotia,  and  various  memoranda  relating  to 
the  business. 

Camperdown  approached  the  heavy  table  where 
Mr.  Armour  sat,  and  throwing  his  cap  on  it,  pulled 
toward  him  one  of  the  haircloth  easy-chairs  of  the 
room,  and  said  agreeably  as  he  sat  down,  "  Morn- 
ing, Stanton.     Is  business  progressing  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Armour,  a  faint  smile  hovering 
about  his  lips. 

He  had  just  received  news  from  his  Jamaica 
agent  of  the  profitable  sale  of  some  West  Indian 
cargoes,  and  was  feeling  almost  cheerful  in  conse- 
quence of  it — the  making  of  money  being  the  one 
ray  of  sunlight  in  his  joyless  existence.  However, 
he  did  not  tell  Dr.  Camperdown  this,  and  the  latter 
went  on : 

"There's  a  point  in  the  science  of  killing  people, 
Stanton,  that  I'd  like  to  have  you  know.  When 
you  tackle  me,  don't  do  it  with  cold  steel,  or  frost 
and  snow  and  icy  atmosphere.  If  I'm  going  to  be 
put  out  of  the  world,  let  me  have  an  easy,  com- 
fortable going.     Something  warm  and  pleasant" 

"  I  am  at  a  loss  to  understand  your  meaning," 
said  Armour  in  a  cold  voice. 


AN    ANSWERED    QUESTION 


305 


vail, 
)art- 
pad- 
the 
map 
igto     . 

^here 
uUed 
f  the 
lorn- 

rering 

maica 
ndian 
:onse- 
e  one 
vever, 
atter 

eople, 
When 
r  frost 
to  be 
com- 
nt" 
ning/' 


"  Drowning  is  a  pleasant  death,"  went  on  Camp- 
erdown  inexorably ;  "  or  bleeding ;  cyanide  of 
potassium  kills  a  cat  quickly.  You  can  shoot  a 
dog  quicker  than  you  can  starve  him.  More  agree- 
able to  the  dog  too." 

"  Your  jesting  is  unintelligible  to  me." 

"I  daresay,"  replied  Camperdown.  "Why  don't 
you  try  to  make  ma'm'selle  happier,  Stanton?  " 

Armour  scanned  him  silently. 

"She's  eating  her  heart  out  about  something," 
said  Camperdown  with  suspicious  smoothness. 
"Those  French  people  are  all  fire  and  suppressed 
passion.     You  don't  understand  them,  Stanton." 

"  I  have  had  some  experience  with  French 
people,"  said  Armour  tranquilly. 

"  Well  you  don't  understand  women,  anyway.*' 

"And  you  do." 

"Yes,  I  know  just  how  to  manage  them.  I 
know  how  to  do  most  things.  With  the  boundless 
conceit  of  the  average  man  I  think  I  could  run  the 
universe.  Why  don't  you  buy  ma'm'selle  some 
new  gloves,  Stanton  ?  I  noticed  that  she  had  on 
shabby  ones  the  other  day." 

Armour  burst  into  one  of  his  rare  and  mirthless 

laughs.      "Really,  Camperdown,  you  are  hard  to 

suit  with  regard  to  this  young  lady.     Is  this  the 

fifth  or  the  sixth  time  that  you  have  interviewed  me 

about  her  ?     Would  you  accept  a  position  as  lady's 

maid  out  at  Pinewood  ?  " 

u 


IfJ 


3o6 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


ti, 


**  No,  I  wouldn't,"  said  his  listener  with  a  growl. 

"I  want  to  do  my  duty  by  her,"  said  Armour. 
**She  has  always  had  a  handsome  allowance.  I 
rarely  notice  a  woman's  dress  ;  but  she  certainly 
would  have  attracted  my  attention  had  she  been 
imperfectly  clad." 

" Do  you  ever  look  at  her,  Stanton?  " 

"Yes;  occasionally." 

"You  do  not  like  her?" 

"  I  really  cannot  see  that  my  feeling  toward  her 
matters  in  the  slightest  degree,"  said  Armour  eva- 
sively. "  By  the  way,  now  you  are  here,  will  you 
prescribe  something  for  me?  I  am  having  in- 
somnia again." 

"  Go  to  bed  early ;  eat  more ;  and  when  you  leave 
your  office  leave  your  business  behind  you,  not 
take  it  home  and  work  half  the  night  in  your 
librar}^"  and  Dr.  Camperdown  surveyed  his  patient 
in  great  moodiness.  "  I  won't  give  you  powders, 
so  you  needn't  ask  me.  You're  breaking  natural 
laws  and  have  been  for  years.  There'll  be  a  col- 
lapse some  day." 

Mr.  Armour's  quiet  self-possession  did  not  leave 
him,  and  he  returned  his  friend's  gaze  with  tranquil 
eyes. 

Something  in  his  glance  reminded  Camperdown 
of  Stargarde,  and  a  softer  mood  came  over  him. 
"Stanton,"  he  said,  and  he  stretched  one  hand 
across  the  table,  "what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 


AN    ANSWERED   QUESTION 


307 


rrowl. 
mour. 
:e.     I 
rtainly 
been 


ird  her 
ur  eva- 
/ill  you 
ing  in- 

)u  leave 
ou,  not 
n  your 

patient 
)Owders, 

natural 
)e  a  col- 

lot  leave 
tranquil 

perdown 
ver  him. 
ne   hand 


Mr.  Armour  measured  him  with  a  glance  of  calm 
surprise,  and  made  no  answer. 

"  What  is  it  that  happened,"  Camperdown  went 
on,  "  to  freeze  you,  to  turn  you  from  a  living  man 
to  a  block  of  ice — ^what  is  it,  Stanton  ?  " 

Again  there  was  no  reply,  and  his  friend  con- 
tinued eagerly : 

"  You  are  alive ;  you  eat,  drink,  sleep,  and  v/alk 
about,  yet  there  is  no  joy  in  living.  Have  you 
ever  heard  of  the  drug  'curare*  ?" 

Armour  shook  his  head. 

**  It  is  much  in  favor  with  certain  members  of 
my  fraternity.  They  use  it,  as  they  say,  in  the  in- 
terests of  science  and  for  the  benefit  of  mankind. 
Animals  to  whom  it  is  administered  cannot  move 
or  cry  out,  but  their  nerves  are  rendered  acutely 
and  intensely  sensitive.  Sometimes,"  softly,  "I 
fancy  that  you  have  been  curarized,  Stanton." 

Armour  smiled  in  rather  a  ghastly  way,  and  mur- 
mured some  unintelligible  reply. 

"  By  our  ancient  friendship,"  said  Camperdown 
in  persuasive  accents,  **tell  me.  If  you  are  in 
trouble,  let  me  share  it,"  and  uneasily  getting  up 
as  if  he  could  not  remain  on  his  seat,  he  tramped 
about  the  office,  not  noisily,  but  very  gently,  and 
pushing  the  chairs  aside  with  his  foot.  '•  Stanton," 
coming  and  bending  over  the  immovable  figure  at 
the  table,  "  I  have  liked  very  few  men,  of  them 
you  most  of  all.     When  we  were  lads,  I  loved  you 


3o8 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


!  i ; 


M 


!M 


like  a  girl.  I  never  told  you,  but  the  ancient  lik- 
ing has  not  entirely  passed  away.  I  would  help 
you  if  I  could,"  and  the  pent-up  emotion  of  years 
found  expression  in  a  movement  that  from  Brian 
Camperdown  was  a  tender  caress ;  he  stooped 
down  and  laid  his  arm  across  his  friend's  shoulder. 

Something  of  Armour's  immobility  gave  way. 
A  slight  flush  rose  to  his  face,  and  he  said  huskily  : 
"  I  am  grateful  to  you,  but  there  is  nothing  to  tell. 
My  business  oppresses  me." 

"Is  that  all?"  asked  Camperdown  keenly. 
"You  know  it  is  not.  You're  eaten  up  by  some 
worry  ;  everybody  knows  it." 

Armour  pushed  back  his  chair,  and  rose  sud- 
denly. "Is  it  as  bad  as  that?"  he  said  hastily. 
"Am  I  remarked  upon?" 

"We  don't  see  ourselves  as  others  see  us.  Peo- 
ple know  that  you're  not  in  a  normal  condition. 
Of  course  they  discuss  you.  Who  are  you  that  the 
rest  of  the  world  should  be  gossiped  about  and 
you  go  scot  free  ?  Now  you'll  try  to  mend,  won't 
you?  Throw  your  burden  into  the  sea.  Tell 
some  woman  about  it,  if  you  won't  trust  me.  If 
she  loves  you,  you'll  be  supremely  happy ;  if  she 
doesn't,  you'll  be  supremely  miserable,  which  is 
the  next  best  thing.  Take  that  little  French  girl 
into  your  heart,  Stanton.  Next  to  Stargarde  she 
comes,  sweet  and  true  and  gentle,  and  yet  full  of 
fire  ;  just  the  right  qualities  for  you." 


AN    ANSWERED   QUESTION 


309 


Armour  looked  at  him  in  undisguised  dismay. 
"  This  is  wildness ;  in  the  name  of  mercy  stop. 
Have  you  been  propounding  this  fine  .scheme  to 
her?" 

"Yes;  we  discuss  it  often,"  said  Camperdown, 
throwing  sentiment  to  the  winds  and  coming  back 
to  his  accustomed  state  of  irritability;  "she's  no 
more  in  favor  of  it  than  you  are  ;  says  she  had  as 
soon  wed  a  mummy  as  you.  Also  that  you've  been 
detestable  to  her.  Good  luck  to  you  in  your  woo- 
ing," and  with  a  look  of  unqualified  disapprobation 
he  strode  to  the  door,  slammed  it  behind  him,  and 
hurried  through  the  streets  to  his  own  office,  where 
a  formidable  array  of  patients  restlessly  awaited 
him. 

Left  alone  Armour  glanced  about  him  in  an  im- 
patient way.  As  if  with  mischievous  finger  the 
words  had  been  traced  on  the  wall,  he  saw  them 
staring  at  him  whichever  way  he  turned,  "  Take  the 
little  French  girl  into  your  heart ;  take  the  little 
French  girl  into  your  heart."  The  very  air  seemed 
to  be  ringing  with  the  foolish  speech. 

"  I  wish  that  Camperdown  would  let  me  alone," 
he  muttered  irritably.  **  I  shall  never  marry ;  if  I 
ever  did,  she  is  the  last  woman  in  the  world  that  I 
could  or  would  choose.  If  he  knew  everything  he 
would  not  be  so  ready  with  his  advice."  Then  his 
face  softened.  *'  I  wonder  what  she  would  say  if 
she  could  know  of  this  conversation.     I  have  never 


f 


-  n 


i  I 


U  I  il 

I 


III 


310 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


satisfied  myself  about  that  suspicion.  I  will  do  so 
to-day,"  and  with  the  air  of  a  man  well  used  to 
mastering  his  emotions  ij .  set  his  book  up  before 
him  again,  and  was  soon  busy  with  the  solution  of 
some  financial  problems  in  which  he  had  been  in- 
terrupted by  the  entrance  of  his  friend. 

An  hour  or  two  later  his  man  came  to  take  him 
home  to  lunch.  "  I  shall  not  go  back  so  early  as 
usual,"  he  said,  as  he  left  the  sleigh  at  Pinewood. 
"Come  for  me  half  an  hour  later." 

At  the  lunch  table  he  did  once  glance  at  the  place 
where  Vivienne  sat  qi'ietly  eating  her  baked  pota- 
toes and  roast  beef,  and  listening  with  an  amused 
air  to  Judy's  semi-sarcastic  remarks. 

Mrs.  Colonibel,  busy  with  some  thoughts  of  her 
own,  scarcely  spoke,  and  Colonel  Armour  and 
Valentine  were  not  present 

"  Will  you  be  good  enough  to  come  to  the  library 
for  a  few  minutes,"  said  Armour,  letting  his  blue 
eyes  rest  for  an  instant  on  Vivienne  as  they  left  the 
table. 

With  a  murmured  reply  in  the  affirmative,  she 
passed  by  him  as  he  held  open  the  door  for  her. 

"  He  looks  as  if  he  were  going  to  scold  her," 
said  Judy  turning  to  her  mother.  **  Do  you  know 
whether  he  thinks  that  she  has  been  doing  anything 
out  of  the  way  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Colonibel,  coming  out  of  her 
reverie ;  "I  don't ;  but  I  know  that  he   scarcely 


AN    ANSWERED   QUESTION 


311 


approves  of  anything  that  she  does.  He  fairly 
hates  her." 

"Does  he?"  chuckled  Judy  with  a  sly  glance  at 
her  mother.  "  She  is  not  afraid  of  him  at  any  rate. 
I  admire  her,  mamma — ^she's  so  cool  and  sweet 
Don't  you  wish  you  were  like  her?  "  and  with  an 
impertinent  laugh  the  girl  slipped  by  her. 

"  I  shall  not  detain  you  long,"  Armour  was 
saying  to  Vivienne  in  the  library.  •*  I  only  want  to 
give  you  this,"  and  he  took  an  envelope  from  his 
pocket,  "and  to  ask  you  to  pardon  me  for  my 
thoughtlessness  in  not  handing  it  to  you  before." 

Vivienne  blushed  painfully  and  put  back  his 
proffered  hand  with  the  question,  "Is  it  money?" 

"  It  is." 

"  I  cannot  take  it,"  and  she  drew  a  long  breath 
and  looked  at  the  door  as  if  she  would  like  to 
escape  from  the  room. 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  do  not  need  it." 

He  surveyed  her  in  quiet  disapprobation. 
"  You  are  vexed  with  me  because  I  did  not  give 
it  to  you  before.  But  I  forgot  that  you  would  still 
have  expenses,  though  under  my  roof" 

"  No,  I  am  not  vexed ;  but  I  still  have  some 
money  left  and  I  cannot  take  any  more  from  you." 

"Again  I  ask,  why  not?  " 

"  Because — because  I  do  not  think  that  it  is  right 
for  me  to  do  so." 


^* 


312 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


i  I 


She  was  very  much  disturbed  though  she  con- 
trolled herself  admirably.  In  an  interested  fashion 
he  noted  the  whiteness  and  evenness  of  the  teeth 
pressing  nervously  against  the  red  rebellious  lips  to 
keep  them  from  bursting  into  speech. 

"  Pardon  me,"  he  said  ;  "  but  I  like  to  get  at 
motives.  Do  you  refuse  this  money  because  you 
dislike  me  so  intensely  or " 

"Oh,  no,  no,"  she  exclaimed,  eagerly  and  pro- 
testingly. 

"You  have  avoided  me  so  studiously  lately,"  he 
went  on,  "that  really  I  began  to  fear  it  was  marked 
by  other  people." 

Always  that  fear  of  what  others  would  say. 
Vivienne  smiled  demurely.  "You  mistake  me;  I 
never  felt  so  grateful  to  you — not  even  when  I  was 
a  little  girl  and  used  to  carry  about  a  picture  of 
Napoleon  because  it  resembled  you." 

"Did  you  really  admire  me  to  that  extent? "  he 
said  ironically. 

"I  did." 

"And  now  you  dislike  me,"  he  said  with  per- 
sistence. 

"  I  have  told  you  that  I  do  not,  Mr.  Armour." 

"You  endure  me  then?" 

"  No,  I  do  not  endure  you  ;  "  and  she  laughed 
outright.  "  I  am,  as  I  said  before,  intensely  grateful 
to  you." 

"She  has  as  many  moods  as  there  are  hours  in 


AN    ANSWERED    QUESTION 


313 


i  con- 

ashion 

teeth 

lips  to 

get  at 
se  you 

id  pro- 

^ly,"  l^e 
marked 

lid  say. 
i  me;  I 
;n  I  was 
:ture  of 

It?"  he 


ith  per- 


lour. 


II 


laughed 
grateful 

hours  in 


the  day,"  he  soliloquized  in  internal  discontent  "I 
wonder  how  I  had  better  make  my  next  attempt?" 

She  spoke  first.  "  Mr.  Armour,  you  said  that 
you  brought  me  here  to  accomplish  a  certain  pur- 
pose, and  when  it  was  accomplished  I  might  leave. 
Has  the  time  not  yet  come?" 

"  It  has,"  he  replied  with  a  return  to  his  usual 
heavy  expression.  "  You  may  go  at  any  time.  My 
design  has  been  frustrated,  as  so  many  of  my  de- 
signs are." 

"I  am  sorty,"  she  said,  "very  sorry,  for  I  know 
that  whatever  your  purpose  was,  it  was  a  worthy 


one. 


II 


"That  is  a  kind  thing  for  you  to  say,"  he  re- 
sponded with  unusual  animation,  "and  very  fitting. 
Now  you  will  take  this  money." 

"  I  cannot,  Mr.  Armour,  and " 

"You  will  not,"  he  said  finishing  her  sentence 
for  her,  "not  even  to  gratify  me.  Well,  though 
you  will  soon  leave  me,  as  I  see  you  plan  to  do,  I 
shall  still  have  a  care  of  your  movements." 

She  cast  down  her  eyes.  "  I  will  take  it,"  she 
said  hurriedly.  "  If  you  would  believe  me  I  would 
tell  you  that  I  am  more  pained  to  reject  kindnesses 
from  you  than  you  are  to  have  them  rejected." 

" Is  that  the  truth? "  he  asked  calmly. 

"It  is." 

"We  shall  miss  you  after  you  go  away,"  he 
went  on  after  he  had  seen  the  envelope  bestowed 


314 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


in  her  pocket ;  "  but  you,  I  fancy,  will  be  happy  to 
leave  us." 

"  No,  no,  not  happy ;  I  shall  regret  it" 

"You  will  miss  Judy,"  he  continued;  "the  other 
members  of  the  family  you  are  indifferent  to." 

She  lifted  her  glowing  eyes  to  his  face.  There 
was  a  method  in  his  way  of  questioning  her,  and  it 
effected  an  immediate  change  in  her  manner.  "If 
you  have  no  more  to  say  to  me,"  she  observed 
quietly,  "  I  will  go  away." 

"  I  have  nothing  more,"  he  said,  "  except  to 
make  the  simple  observation  that  you  are  free  to 
return  here  at  any  time." 

"  I  shall  not  return,  Mr.  Armour." 

The  proud  sadness  of  her  tone  touched  him. 
"You  arrogant  child,"  he  exclaimed,  "how  can 
you  tell?     What  do  you  know  of  life?" 

"  I  know  what  is  right  for  me  to  do,"  she  said 
almost  inaudibly,  "and  I  must  not  keep  you  any 
longer." 

"Stay,"  he  said,  "just  for  one  instant  Till  you 
answer  my  last  question.  Judy  is  the  one  that  you 
most  dread  the  parting  from  ?  ' ' 

"Yes,  Judy — ^why  not  Judy?"  she  said  com- 
posedly. 

It  was  not  Judy.  He  saw  who  it  was  in  every 
curve  of  her  suddenly  erect,  defiant  figure,  in  every 
line  of  her  dark  annoyed  face  as  she  went  quickly 
away. 


AN    ANSWERED   QUESTION 


315 


"  I  have  not  been  engaged  in  a  very  honorable 
employment,"  he  said  when  he  was  left  alone. 
*'  Baiting  an  innocent  girl  has  not  heretofore  been 
one  of  my  pastimes ;  but  I  wanted  to  find  out — and 
she  has  teased  me  and  braved  me  as  no  other 
woman  has  ever  done.  She  loves  me."  And  with 
a  deep  flush  of  gratification  he  drew  on  his  gloves 
and  [.ft  the  room.  "  Hereafter  her  position  in  my 
house  will  be  very  different  Perhaps  she  may  not 
leave  us — who  knows?"  And  with  a  growing  con- 
viction in  his  mind  that  there  were  things  in  the 
world  of  more  interest  than  money-making,  he 
drove  to  his  office. 


CHAPTER  XXV 


zilla's  rosebud 


'm 


mui 


V 
•i  " 


r !  5 


MISS  ZILLA  CAMPERDOWN  sat  on  the 
top  step  of  the  second  staircase  in  the 
house  of  her  adoption,  carefully  nursing  a  small 
parcel  done  up  in  white  tissue  paper,  and  watching 
patiently  the  closed  door  of  a  bedroom  beyond 
her. 

At  last  the  door  opened,  and  Dr.  Camperdown 
appeared.  "  How  do  I  look  ?  "  he  asked,  survey- 
ing her  with  a  smile  so  broad  and  ample  that  her 
small  form  was  fairly  enveloped  by  it 

In  speechless  delight  she  caught  him  by  the 
hand,  and  leading  him  back  into  his  room,  de- 
voured with  her  eyes  every  line  of  his  figure. 

*'  How  do  I  look  ?  "  he  said  again,  but  the  child, 
as  if  words  failed  her  to  describe  the  perfection  of 
the  sight,  waved  him  toward  the  full  length  reflec- 
tion of  himself  in  the  pier-glass  between  his  win- 
dows. 

He  gazed  complacently  at  it,  and  saw  a  closely 

cropped,  large,  but   finely  shaped   sandy  head,  a 

trimmed   moustache,   and   a   new  suit  of  evening 

clothes  that  fitted  admirably  his  strong  and  power- 

316 


IbggM 


ZILLA  S    ROSEBUD 


317 


fully  built  figure.  "  Look  like  a  dandy,  Zilla,"  he 
muttered.  *'  Body's  all  right,  so  it  doesn't  matter 
about  the  ugly  face." 

"You're  a  bouncer,"  she  said  beatifically. 
"There'll  not  be  one  like  you  at  the  toe- 
skippin'." 

"At  the  what,  Zilla?"  he  asked,  twisting  his 
neck  in  order  to  get  a  view  of  his  coat  tails. 

"The  dance,"  she  said  hastily.  "There'll  be 
women  there,  I  suppose.  Don't  let  them  run  their 
eyes  after  you.  Dr.  Brian." 

"Why  not,  my  child?" 

"You  might  be  wantin' — ^wantin*  to  fetch  one 
of  them  here,"  a  spasm  of  jealousy  contracting  h.er 
brows. 

He  did  not  notice  it,  being  still  intent  upon  his 
coat  tails.  "  Suppose  I  did  bring  one,  Zilla — ^what 
would  you  do?" 

"I'd  dash  vitriol  at  her,"  said  the  child  softly; 
"then  she'd  run  away." 

He  turned  sharply  to  her  with  the  sternest  ex- 
pression upon  his  face  that  she  had  ever  seen  there. 
Her  words  had  conjured  up  a  vision  of  his  beloved 
Stargarde  hiding  her  disfigured  features  from  him, 
and  Zilla  gloating  over  her  misery.  Your  bad- 
ness is  awful,"  he  said  backing  away  !ro-.i  her;  "it 
is  the  badness  of  big  cities.  Thank  Heaven,  wc 
don't  have  it  here." 

His  words  were  as  a  spark  to  inflammable  mate- 


3i8 


THE    HOUSE    OF    ARMOUR 


rial.  Immediately  the  child  fell  into  a  raging  pas- 
sion. Her  joy  in  his  affection  for  her  had  been  so 
acute  that  it  had  almost  amounted  to  pain,  and  her 
fury  at  his  annoyance  was  so  intense  that  she  rev- 
eled in  it  with  a  mad  sense  of  pleasure.  She 
could  not  speak  for  wrath,  but  she  returned  his 
gaze  with  ten-fold  interest,  and  walking  deliberately 
up  to  the  long  mirror,  she  poised  the  dainty  heel  of 
her  slipper  and  sent  it  crashing  through  the  glass. 

He  neither  spoke  nor  stirred,  though  some  of  the 
broken  glass  came  falling  about  the  toes  of  his 
patent  leather  shoes. 

She  caught  her  breath,  flung  at  him  a  whole 
nwuthful  of  her  forbidden  "swear  words,"  and 
sprang  at  a  razor  on  his  dressing  table. 

At  this  he  started  toward  her  quickly  enough, 
and  his  hand  closed  over  hers  just  as  she  seized  the 
shining  steel.  She  struggled  with  him  like  a  small 
wild  beast,  but  her  strength  was  powerless  against 
his.  "  Drop  it !  drop  it ! "  he  said  commandingly  ; 
then  more  kindly,  "  Put  it  down,  Zilla." 

At  the  change  in  his  tone  she  looked  up  at  him, 
and  unclasping  her  fingers  from  the  handle,  allowed 
the  dangerous  instrument  to  slip  to  the  floor. 

Still  holding  the  little  menacing  hands,  he  sat 
down  and  took  her  upon  his  knee.  "  Did  you  wish 
to  kill  me  with  that  razor?  "  he  asked. 

"  No  ;  myself,"  she  said  with  a  sob.  "  I'm  tired 
o'  living." 


\:m 


i-     I 


ZILLA  S    ROSEBUD 


319 


Tired  of  living  because  she  fancied  that  he  had 
ceased  to  love  her.  "Zilla,"  he  said,  "I  have  a 
dev —  a  demon  of  a  temper." 

For  answer  the  child  buried  her  face,  as  he  un- 
easily reflected,  in  the  glossy  bosom  of  his  evening 
shirt  front,  and  wept  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 
Yet  he  did  not  disturb  her,  except  to  pat  the  back 
of  her  head  and  murmur  :  *•  Don't  cry,  child — ^you 
wouldn't  really  be  angry  with  me  if  I  got  married, 
would  you,  Zilla?"  he  asked,  after  her  passion 
seemed  somewhat  subdued.  "You  know  that  I 
hope  to  make  Miss  Turner  my  wife  some  day." 

"  I  would  not  mind  her  so  much,"  said  the  child 
reluctantly. 

"And  you  would  not  do  anything  to  hurt  her?  " 

"  N'.."  And  she  raised  her  tear-stained  face  to 
assure  him  that  she  spoke  truly. 

"No  one  has  been  putting  nonsense  in  your 
head  about  my  marrying  you,  Zilla?"  uneasily. 

"  Marry  you  ! "  she  said  in  accents  of  the  utmost 
icorn.  "I'm  not  fit  enough,  and  I'm  only  a  little 
girl     'Twould  be  too  long  to  wait." 

"Far  too  long,"  cheerfully.  "We'll  get  you  a 
husband  when  you're  ready  for  one.  Sensible  men 
don't  marr)'  babies,  or  rather  young  girls." 

She  understood  him  and  smiled  comprehendingly. 
Then  she  said  humbly :  "  Don't  delay  yourself 
any  more — it's  time  to  go.  May  I  say  prayers  to 
you  first?" 


I 


■J  /* 


I 


m 


f-n  ; 


:  ! 


320 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  Yes,"  he  replied,  gravely  subduing  his  astonish- 
ment at  this,  the  first  request  of  the  kind  that  she 
had  made  to  him.  She  knelt  down  by  his  knee, 
and  pressing  her  little  hot  cheek  against  his  hand, 
repeated  devoutly  a  series  of  eminently  proper  and 
reverential  prayers  that  Mrs.  Trotley  had  taught 
her,  but  which,  on  account  of  long  words,  could 
not  possibly  convey  to  her  mind  any  apprehension 
of  their  meaning. 

At  the  last  of  the  many  "Amens,"  she  lifted  her 
face  and  said  wsh  "nspeakable  sadness  and  humil- 
ity, "Can  I  pray  ;.     .xtra?" 

"Yes,"  he  returned,  biting  his  lip  ;  "as  many  as 
you  please." 

She  immediately  poured  forth  one  of  the  heart- 
felt, childish  supplications  which  the  young  when 
in  agony  of  soul  will  sometimes  utter,  and  to  his 
mingled  shame  and  confusion  it  was  addressed  to 
himself,  rather  than  to  the  Supreme  Deity,  who  was 
but  a  shadowy  and  mysterious  unreality  to  her. 

"  Dear  Dr.  Brian,  cut  the  devil  out  of  my  heart 
and  make  me  like  you,"  it  began,  and  continued 
on  through  his  list  of  virtues — in  spite  of  his  recent 
admission  with  regard  to  his  temper — ^and  a  vehe- 
ment and  longing  invocation  to  be  more  like  him, 
so  that  he  would  not  get  angry  with  her. 

He  did  not  dare  interrupt  her,  and  sat  looking 
at  the  reflection  of  his  red  and  confused  face  in  the 
unbroken  part  of  the  mirror  opposite. 


ZILLAS    ROSEBUD 


321 


With  a  final  sob,  not  dreaming  that  she  had  done 
anything  unusual,  she  quietly  put  up  her  cheek  for 
his  usual  good-night  kiss. 

"Good-night,  dear  Zilla,"  he  said,  in  a  rather 
tremulous  voice.  "  Will  you  not  call  me  brother 
in  future,  rather  than  doctor  ?  " 

The  child  stared  at  him  incredulously,  then  flung 
her  arms  around  his  neck  in  a  choking  embrace, 
murmuring  in  eager  delight,  "  Brother  Brian,"  and 
rushed  from  the  room. 

He  rubbed  his  hand  over  his  eyes.  "  Must  try 
to  teach  her  a  simpler  prayer,"  gruffly.  "  What's 
this,  something  she's  dropped?"  and  he  picked  up 
the  crushed  paper  parcel  on  the  floor.  It  contained 
a  little,  headless  stalk  wrapped  in  silver  foil.  The 
rosebud  top  had  rolled  under  the  table  in  Zilla's 
struggle  with  him.  He  knew  that  during  the  after- 
noon there  had  been  an  excursion  made  to  a  dis- 
tant greenhouse  by  Mrs.  Trotley  and  Zilla,  and  had 
guessed  that  it  was  to  obtain  a  boutonniere  for  him. 

"Poor  child,"  he  muttered  ;  "her  rosebud  shall 
go  to  the  dance,"  and  taking  it  in  his  well-shaped 
hands,  he,  by  means  of  one  of  his  surgeon's  nee- 
dles and  a  bit  of  thread,  quickly  fastened  bud  and 
stalk  together  and  placed  them  in  the  silk  lapel  of 
his  coat. 

The  coat  he  took  off  and  laid  carefully  on  the 
bed,  and  then  proceeded  to  exchange  the  shirt  blis- 
tered by  Zilla's  tears  for  a  fresh  one. 


All 


■'^  i 


322 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  he  was  standing  in 
front  of  the  sleigh  waiting  for  him  by  the  pave- 
ment and  attentively  scrutinizing  Zilla's  windows. 
Yes  ;  the  curtains  were  drawn  slightly  apart.  He 
threw  back  his  topcoat,  pointed  to  the  rosebud, 
and  waving  his  hand  to  her  entered  the  sleigh. 

"  By  love  I  have  won  her,  by  love  I  must  keep 
her,"  soliloquized  Camperdown,  as  his  sleigh  trav- 
ersed the  distance  between  his  house  and  the  Arm. 

He  soon  arrived  among  the  vehicles,  opened  and 
closed,  that  were  dashing  up  to  Pinewood  and  de- 
positing their  occupants  at  a  side  entrance  to  the 
house,  the  l?r(^e  front  hall  being  given  up  to  dan- 
cing. By  a  back  stairway  he  was  directed  to  a 
dressing  room,  ana  joining  a  stream  of  people,  for 
Mrs.  Colonibel's  dance  was  in  reality  a  ball,  pro- 
ceeded down  the  wide  staircase  to  the  drawing 
rooms.  Mrs.  Colonibel,  magnificent  in  pink  satin, 
was  receiving  her  guests  inside  the  back  drawing- 
room  door.  Colonel  Armour,  the  handsomest  man 
present,  in  spite  of  his  snowy  hair,  was  with  her,  as 
also  was  Valentine.  Stanton  was  not  visible.  Be- 
side Mrs.  Colonibel  stood  Vivienne,  dressed  as  usual 
in  white,  and  receiving  the  salutations  of  the  many 
friends  of  the  house,  not  with  the  shy,  uncertain 
manner  of  the  debutantCy  but  rather  with  the  serene 
and  conventional  reserve  of  a  woman  of  the  world. 

"Both  smiling  angelically  and  neither  of  them 
enjoying  it,"  muttered  Camperdown,  pushing  aside 


ZILLAS    ROSEBUD 


323 


the  purple  train  of  a  lady's  dress  with  his  foot,  and 
stepping  behind  Mrs.  Colonibel.  •'  Solomon  in  all 
his  glory  wasn't  a  patch  on  her,"  surveying  the 
back  of  her  elaborately-trimmed  gown.  **And 
ma'm'selle  hasn't  an  ornament.  Sensible  girl ! 
This  is  a  frightful  ordeal  for  her,  this  plunge  into 
society  in  a  place  that  her  parents  fled  from.  Far 
better  for  Flora  to  have  given  her  a  tea ;  much 
more  suitable  for  the  coming  out  of  a  young  girl. 
That's  what  we'll  give  Zilla.  But  I  must  perform 
my  devoir ^^^  and  he  fell  in  behind  a  group  of  ladies 
who  were  coming  up  to  greet  their  hostess,  fol- 
lowed by  the  gentlemen  of  their  family. 

Mrs.  Colonibel's  fascinating  smile  was  met  by  an 
encouraging  one  on  his  part,  and  pressing  gently 
the  white-gloved  hand  of  the  gi"l  beside  her,  he 
passed  on  to  make  way  for  another  bevy  of  ladies. 
Nodding  to  men  acquaintances,  and  bowing  to 
every  woman  whose  eye  he  could  not  escape,  he 
passed  through  the  room  and  along  the  verandas, 
which  had  been  covered  in  for  the  evening. 

"As  gorgeous  as  the  sun  at  midsummer.  Will 
Shakespeare  would  say,"  he  soliloquized.  "  Light, 
heat,  music,  jewels,  fine  raiment  on  pretty,  painted 
peacocks,  strutting  about  to  show  their  tails  to  each 
other — Flora's  idea  of  heaven.  Wonder  if  Star- 
garde  is  about?"  With  a  wholesome  fear  of  im- 
periling delicate  silks  and  laces,  he  cautiously 
re-entered  the  hall,   lifted   up  his  eyes,  and  saw 


::'l 


I- ill 


324 


THE    HOUSE    OF    ARMOUR 


f    ):i 


Stargarde  and  Judy  bending  over  the  railing  of  the 
circular  well  in  the  third  story  of  the  house.  He 
smiled  at  them,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they  heard 
his  step  on  the  stairway. 

"Oh,  what  a  dude!"  exclaimed  Judy.  "Just 
observe  his  broadcloth  and  fine  linen,  Stargarde, 
and  his  boutonnierey  and  perfume  too,  I  believe ; 
that's  the  little  wildcat's  doings." 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  Judy,"  he  said  shyly,  slip- 
ping in  to  rest  his  arms  on  the  railing  between  her 
and  Stargarde. 

"  Oh,  but  really,  you  know,  it  is  too  overcoming," 
said  Judy  saucily.  "And  his  hair,  Stargarde  !  What 
have  you  done  with  your  sandy  locks,  Brian  ?  Isn't 
the  back  of  his  head  nice?"  and  she  ran  her  fin- 
gers lightly  over  it.  "  I'm  proud  of  you,  my  phy- 
sician," and  thrusting  her  hand  through  his  arm, 
she  looked  down  on  the  moving  groups  of  people 
below.  "They're  just  going  to  start  the  dancing  ; 
the  musicians  are  in  a  little  room  off  the  library. 
Stanton  had  to  leave  his  den  for  once." 

"Where  is  he?"  interrupted  Camperdown. 

"Dressing.;  he  was  detained  in  town.  Doesn't 
the  house  look  nice,  Brian  ?  We've  had  a  florist 
here  all  day.  I  like  the  palm  grove  in  the  back 
hall  best  of  all.  Mamma  must  be  dead  tired. 
She  has  been  at  the  thing  for  a  week.  Stanton 
for  once  let  her  have  all  the  money  she  wished. 
AH  day  she  has  been  fussing  about  the  supper,  and 


ZILLA  S   ROSEBUD 


325 


watching  the  thermometers ;  the  house  isn't  too 
warm  yet,  whatever  it  may  be  later ;  and  the  men 
were  late  in  coming  to  take  up  the  hall  carpet. 
There  go  the  lancers.     I  wish  I  could  dance." 

Camperdown  was  not  listening  to  her,  being  en- 
gaged in  carrying  on  a  conversation  in  a  low  note 
with  Stargarde,  who  seemed  strangely  listless  and 
inattentive. 

"  Stargarde  forgot  that  it  was  the  night  of  the 
ball,"  said  Judy.  "She  came  sauntering  out  here 
about  six  o'clock  in  that  cotton  gown,  and  said  that 
mamma  had  invited  her  to  something,  she  didn't 
know  what,  but  thought  it  was  a  dinner.  Isn't  she 
queer,  Brian?" 

"Very,"  he  replied ;  then  to  the  subject  of  their 
remarks.     "You  look  pale;  will  you  sit  down?" 

She  sank  obediently  into  the  big  chair  that  he 
pulled  up  for  her,  and  he  resumed  his  talk  with  her. 

Judy  watched  the  dancing  going  on  below,  and 
listened  to  the  music  as  if  she  were  entranced,  oc- 
casionally hushing  Mammy  Juniper,  who  sat  on  a 
stool  in  the  corner,  rocking  herself  to  and  fro  and 
groaning,  "O  Lord,  forgive  !  Good  Lord,  pardon !" 
and  similar  ejaculations. 

"There  is  Stanton,"  exclaimed  Judy.  "I  must 
speak  to  him,"  and  she  limped  down  to  the  hall 
below. 

"Not  bad  looking,"  she  said,  critically  surveying 
his  calm,  well-bred  face  and  heavily  built  though 


ill 


326 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


!i     I! 


It 


tt 


finely  proportioned  figure.  "  Might  even  pass  for 
a  handsome  man.  Why  is  it  that  men  always  look 
so  well  in  evening  clothes?  Stanton,"  speaking  in 
a  low  tone,  "  when  I  told  Vivienne  that  your  busi- 
ness engagements  might  keep  you  in  town  this 
evening  she  looked  as  if  she  didn't  care  at  all." 

"Perhaps  she  didn't,"  he  said  coolly. 

"  Bah — ^you're  a  man !  She  did  care.  What  did 
you  say  the  other  day  to  make  her  angry  ?  " 

"  Nothing." 
You  did  something." 

No,  I  did  not,"  he  said  quietly ;  "  but  really  I 
must  refuse  to  have  Miss  Delavigne  thrust  upon 
me  at  every  turn." 

"Come,  look  at  her  and  see  how  lovely  she  is," 
and  Judy  drew  him  toward  the  circular  opening  in 
the  hall.  "Aren't  her  bows  delicious?  Do  you  see 
Valentine  watching  her?  He  is  happy  because  she 
is  going  to  dance  with  him  presently,  and  I  don't 
believe  she  wants  to,  for  she  is  afraid  that  he  is 
going  to  get  silly  over  her,  just  as  he  has  been  over 
other  girls." 

"Did  she  tell  you  this?" 

"  No,  but  I  know  it.  What  a  pity  that  you  have 
given  up  dancing,  Stanton." 

"  I  must  leave  you,"  he  said  abruptly,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  he  was  moving  quietly  about  among 
his  guests  below. 

"You  may  pretend  and  pretend  as  much  as  you 


zilla's  rosebud 


327 


like,"  said  Judy  sagely,  "but  you're  a  changed 
man,  and  everybody  notices  it ;  ten  times  more 
cheerful,  ten  times  more  anxious  to  be  at  home, 
and  always  with  that  glitter  in  your  eye.  Poor 
mamma  and  poor  Val!"  and  chuckling  happily  she 
returned  to  her  former  place  of  observation. 


Il     <  < 


I  Hi 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  MISERY   OF  THE  WORLD 

THE  house  was  only  pleasantly  filled,  and  there 
was  no  crush  anywhere.  Shaking  hands  and 
bowing  to  many  people  on  his  way,  Armour  passed 
through  the  drawing  rooms,  the  library,  and  the 
dining  room,  where  on  a  long  table,  pots  of  delicate 
maiden  hair  and  slender  ferns  nodded  over  dishes 
of  dainty  china  and  glassware  heaped  high  with 
sweetmeats  and  every  dainty  viand  possible  to  pro- 
cure for  the  elaborate  menu  of  a  ball  supper. 

The  wide  hall  where  the  dancing  was  going  on 
was,  in  spite  of  the  season  of  the  year,  like  a  bower 
in  its  profusion  of  growing  plants  and  cut  flowers, 
whose  heavy  rich  odors  were  as  incense  to  the  nos- 
trils of  his  cousin — a  woman  of  tropical  tastes. 

Everybody  seemed  to  be  stirring  about.  There 
were  no  dull  groups  along  the  walls  and  the  ripple 
of  conversation  and  laughter  was  a  constant  one  ; 
and  no  one  was  in  need  of  special  entertainment 
he  was  happy  to  observe.  This  was  the  result  of 
Mrs.  Colonibel's  invariable  custom  of  doubling  the 
number  of  her  young  lady  guests  by  members  of 
the  opposite  sex,  the  usual  proclivity  of  men  to 
328 


n 


THE    MISERY    OF   THE   WORLD 


329 


look  on  at  a  dance  rather  than  to  engage  in  it, 
being  well  known  to  her.  So  Armour  was  free  to 
enjoy  himself  in  his  own  way,  and  feeling  no  respon- 
sibility for  the  present  as  a  host  he  joined  a  knot 
of  people  who  were  watching  the  dancers  from  a 
doorway. 

The  musicians  were  playing  sweetly  and  with  no 
lapses  into  braying  discordancy  a  new  waltz,  "  Vwc 
la  Canada^  The  whole  house  was  flooded  with 
their  strains,  so  strong  and  soul-stirring,  yet  so  well- 
modulated  that  those  in  the  near  library  were  not 
disturbed  by  them. 

Patriotism  it  was  probably  that  made  the  blood 
stir  so  strangely  in  Armour's  veins,  and  his  face 
flush  so  dark  a  crimson.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on 
Vivienne,  who  was  dancing  with  the  tallest  man  in 
the  garrison,  an  officer  of  the  Royal  Engineers. 
Armour  noticed  that  they  made  frequent  pauses, 
and  speculated  a  little  about  it,  whether  it  was 
owing  to  the  awkwardness  of  her  partner,  or  to  her 
own  inclination  not  to  keep  on  her  feet  during  the 
entire  progress  of  a  round  dance.  Of  the  amount 
of  attention  that  she  was  attracting  she  appeared  to 
be  quite  unconscious,  but  that  she  was  quite  well 
aware  of  it,  he  was  fully  persuaded. 

"Accept  my  felicitations  on  the  subject  of  your 
ward,"  said  a  roguish  voice  in  his  ear;  "your  rewdsd 
perhaps  I  should  call  her,  considering  the  satisfac- 
tory termination  of  your  cares  on  her  behalf" 


i 


330 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


?!; 


I 


Hi!      I 


Armour  puc  out  a  hand  to  one  of  Valentine's 
merry  friends,  who  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  Pine- 
wood.  "She's  fairer  than  the  moon  in  all  her 
glory — that's  from  the  Bible  isn't  it?"  pursued  the 
young  man;  "or  perhaps  one  shouldn't  use  the 
word  fair  in  connection  with  one  so  dark.  Royal 
touch-me-not  style,  but  fascinating.  Hey  noniiy ! 
wish  I  had  a  million  and  was  good  enough  shot  to 
wing  Macartney.  Au  revoir^  I'm  engaged  for  the 
next  polka — must  look  up  my  partner." 

The  waltz  had  ceased  and  a  group  of  men  sur- 
rounded the  place  where  Vivienne  stood,  her  white 
velvet  gown  gleaming  like  a  snowdrop  against  the 
crimson  curtain  behind  her.  She  seemed  to  be 
listening  rather  than  talking  and  Armour  was  struck 
as  Camperdcwn  had  been  by  her  slight  ceremo- 
nious air  of  reserve  and  by  the  absence  of  any  girl- 
ish eagerness  of  delight  in  this  her  first  ball. 

He,  a  man  that  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of 
taking  no  pleasure  in  anything,  felt  like  a  boy  to- 
night, and  suppressing  a  smile  he  turned  away  and 
sought  Mrs.  Colonibel  to  hear  any  instructions  that 
she  might  have  to  give  him. 

An  hour  later,  while  he  was  having  a  quiet  stroll 
along  the  verandas,  carefully  avoiding  the  conserva- 
tory, where  a  few  stray  couples  were  wandering 
among  the  flowers,  he  came  suddenly  upon  two 
people  who  stood  in  a  recess.  He  turned  quickly 
on  his  heel,  but  not  before   he  had  noticed  the 


\\ 


THE   MISERY   OF  THE   WORLD 


331 


drooping,  regretful  attitude  of  Vivienne's  shoulders 
and  the  earnest  pose  of  Captain  Macartney's  figure. 
Angrily  clasping  his  hands  behind  his  back,  and 
muttering  an  uncomplimentary  remark  regarding 
men  who  persecute  young  girls  scarcely  out  of  the 
schoolroom  with  a  declaration  of  love,  he  stepped 
back  into  the  drawing  room. 

He  had  scarcely  arrived  there  before  a  hand  was 
laid  on  his  shoulder.  "  Go  to  Miss  Delavigne,  will 
you,  Armour?"  said  Captain  Macartney,  his  face  a 
shade  paler  than  usual.  "  I  think  she  would  like 
some  tea,  or  an  ice.'* 

With  considerable  alacrity  Mr.  Armour  obeyed 
him.  He  found  Vivienne  sitting  down,  her  face 
extremely  flushed. 

"It  is  warm  here,"  he  said,  cutting  a  slit  in  the 
bunting  with  his  knife.  "  I  do  not  wonder  th^t  you 
are  overcome  ;  I  will  bring  you  some  tea." 

*'  I  fear  that  our  experiment  is  not  a  success,"  he 
said  a  short  time  later,  as  he  stood  watching  her 
drink  the  tea. 

"Do  you  refer  to  this  ball?"  said  Vivienne,  lift- 
ing her  eyebrows. 

"Yes  ;  I  encouraged  Flora  in  it,  for  I  thought  it 
would  be  a  pleasure  to  you. 

"  I  can  think  of  nothing  but  my  hackneyed  ex- 
pression of  your  kindness  and  my  gratitude." 

"  And  that  I  do  not  believe ;  you  talk  of  grati- 
tude, yet  your  actions  belie  your  words." 


I! 


nil 

III:  ! 


I  !'l 


"  I  think  that  I  have  outlived  balls,"  she  said  a 
little  wearily ;  "  and  you — ^you  do  not  care  for 
them." 

"  No,"  he  returned  ;  "but  you  are  younger  than 
I  am." 

"Judy  and  I  saw  a  poor  creature  to-day  when 
we  were  with  Stargarde.  She  had  been  starved  to 
death ;  it  was  horrible.  If  a  few  of  ^''  ^se  gowns 
here  to-night  were  sold  they  would  keep  some 
needy  people  in  food  for  a  year.  And  the  mes 
that  are  drunk — they  do  us  no  good,  and  often 
much  harm." 

"  Would  it  please  you  to  hear  me  say  that  I  shall 
never  have  wine  offered  in  a  mixed  assembly 
again  ? 

"  It  would,  Mr.  Armour." 

"  Then  I  say  it ;  and  now  is  that  shadow  to  lift 
from  your  face  ?  " 

It  did  not,  and  Vivienne  rose  and  said  in  some 
embarrassipent :  "  Shall  we  not  go  to  Mrs.  Colon- 
ibel?     I  have  not  seen  her  for  some  time." 

"Tell  me  first  why  you  are  so  ill  at  ease  with 
me,"  he  said  with  some  doggedness.  "  You  know 
that  I  am  anxious  to  atone  for  my  past  sins  of  neg- 
lect toward  you,  yet  you  give  me  no  chance.  You 
are  restless,  and  I  know  your  one  thought  is  to 
get  away  from  here." 

Her  eyes  sparkled.  "  Mr.  Armour,  it  is  useless 
for  us  to  try  to  agree.     We  are  like  fire  and  steel. 


JiiHi 


THE   MISERY   OF  THE   WORLD 


333 


I  resolve  and  resolve  that  with  you,  who  admire 
meekness  so  much  in  a  woman,  that  I  will  be  a  very 
Griselda  ;  yet  I  cannot." 

"  I  seer.'  to  rouse  all  the  opposition  in  you,"  he 
said  ;  "why  is  it?  " 

"  I  would  rather  not  tell  you." 

"I  am  tired  of  this  constant,  *I  would  rather  not 
tell  you,*"  he  uttered  in  undisguised  impatience. 
**  You  speak  the  truth  with  more  offense  than  most 
women  tell  a  falsehood." 

She  played  with  her  fan  without  speaking  to 
him. 

"Stargarde  tells  me  that  you  wished  to  have 
some  conversation  with  me  about  your  parents,"  he 
continued;  "yet,  in  your  willfulness,  you  will  not 
mention  them  to  me." 

There  was  something  in  this  new  accusation  that 
touched  Vivienne's  sense  of  humor,  which  was  al- 
ways present  with  her.  He  saw  her  roguish  smile 
and  resented  it.  Scarcely  knowing  what  he  did 
he  seized  the  little  white-gloved  hand  in  his : 
"We  are  alone  for  the  first  time  for  days.  Ask 
me  now  what  questions  you  will,  and  promise  me 
that  you  will  treat  me  with  more  friendliness  for  the 
rest  of  your  brief  stay  here." 

"Ask  you — promise  you,"  she  said  slowly,  and 
with  as  much  composure  as  though  her  hands  were 
free.  "  Mr.  Armour,  we  ca.not  be  friends  because 
according  to  you  we  are  not  equals." 


n$^ 


K'5^ 


Is. 
ail! ! 


III) 


ik 


r,-'i 


I    ! 


I!     >! 


li! 


1 1 ' 


I'l 


334 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"Not  equals!"  he  repeated.  "What  absurdity 
is  this?" 

"  Some  women  will  lie  to  their — to  their  acquaint- 
ances," she  went  on.  "I  will  not ;  and  I  say  that 
to  a  man  of  your  indomitable  pride,  a  child  that 
he  has  bought  and  paid  for,  as  it  were,  and  that  has 
grown  into  a  womanhood  that  may  occasionally 
divert  him,  is  not  for  an  instant  to  be  considered  on 
an  equality  with  him — that  is,  in  his  estimation.  It 
is  a  toy,  a  puppet,  with  which  he  may  occasionally 
amuse  himself,  then  throw  it  aside." 

A  variety  of  expressions  chased  themselves  over 
his  face  while  she  was  speaking.  When  she  fin- 
ished he  dropped  her  hands  with  a  smile  :  "  I  am 
right ;  I  thought  that  your  irrepressible  and  suspi- 
cious pride — with  which  mine  cannot  be  compared 
— was  at  the  bottom  of  this  ;  but  I  will  subdue  it. 
Vivienne " 

"  Is  not  this  rather  a  serious  and  gladiatorial  kind 
of  conversation  for  a  ball,"  she  interrupted,  "a 
place  where  one  should  utter  only  small  talk  ?  " 

He  leaned  against  the  wall,  and  stroking  his  mus- 
tache in  a  hasty  and  disturbed  manner  muttered  : 
"  You  are  only  a  girl,  yet  you  have  yourself  under 
better  control  than  most  women.  Would  nothing 
break  you  down  ?  " 

At  that  moment  the  conversation  of  some  ladies 
standing  by  a  raised,  curtained  window,  opening  on 
the  veranda,  became  clearly  audible. 


THE   MISERY   OF  THE   WORLD 


335 


*'  She's  not  proud,  neither  is  she  consaited,"  they 
heard  in  a  strident  undertone ;  "I  can  vouch  for 
that." 

"Oh,  no,  no,  my  dear  Mrs.  Macartney,  I  did 
not  mean  to  hint  at  such  a  thing,"  interposed  the 
low,  cutting  voice  of  a  lady  well-known  to  Mr.  Ar- 
mour ;  "  I  merely  said  that  a  little  less  haughtiness, 
a  little  more  humility  of  deportment,  would  be 
befitting  to  such  a  very  young  person  who  has  so 
broad  a  bar  sinister  across  her  escutcheon." 

"  Her  father  was  a  thief,  you  know,"  chimed  in  a 
third  hard,  vulgar  little  voice ;  "a  low,  miserable 
thief,  who  stole  money  just  as  meanly  as  a  person 
taking  it  out  of  a  till.  I  don't  believe  in  smoothing 
over  big  offenses  and  coming  down  so  hard  on  lit- 
tle ones.  The  Armours  are  very  good  to  want  to 
introduce  her  into  society ;  but  I  think  a  girl  like 
that  ought  to  be  left  in  seclusion.  I  pity  Mrs.  Co- 
lonibel." 

"And  it's  me  own  daughter-in-la\.  I'd  like  to 
see  her,"  said  Mrs.  Macartney  boisterously. 

There  was  a  rustling  of  silk,  two  swift  "Ohs" 
of  ejaculation,  two  attempted  apologies,  and  then 
a  subdued  snorting  which  told  them  that  the  Irish- 
woman had  left  her  opponents  in  possession  of  the 
field. 

Vivienne  sank  back  on  her  chair,  and  Armour 
turned  away  to  hide  the  anger  of  his  face.  She 
thought  that  he  was  about  to  interfere,  and  touched 


336 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


!!  ! 


him  on  the  sleeve  with  a  murmured,  "They  are 
your  guests." 

He  shook  his  head  impatiently  just  as  the  cutting 
voice  went  on,  "  How  exceedingly  brusque  that 
Irishwoman  is ;  I  cannot  bear  to  have  her  near  me." 

**  She  fancied  that  she  was  exploding  an  impor- 
tant family  secret,"  said  the  vulgar  Httle  voice,  "when 
all  the  world  knows  that  the  French  demoiselle  has 
jilted  her  stepson;" 

"  Indeed  ?  "  eagerly.     "  I  have  not  heard  that." 

"  I  am  surprised  that  you  have  not.  She  is  said 
to  be  setting  her  cap  for  Mr.  Armour.  He  is  richer 
than  Captain  Macartney,  you  know.  French  girls 
are  artful." 

Armour  made  a  step  forward,  but  Vivienne  laid 
a  hand  on  his  arm.  "  There  is  some  one  coming," 
she  said,  and  putting  up  her  fan  to  partly  conceal 
the  terrible  pallor  of  her  face,  and  seeing  that  he 
was  unable  to  speak  she  said  in  a  clear  voice,  "Did 
you  fancy,  Mr.  Armour,  that  this  is  my  first  ball  ? 
I  have  been  at  one  other  in  Orleans  c/iejs  les  Dales- 
worthys.  Mrs.  Dalesworthy  permitted  her  daugh- 
ters to  put  on  white  gowns  and  sit  behind  a  screen 
of  flowers  for  ten  minutes  only  to  observe  the  dan- 
cing. I  accompanied  them,  and  being  anxious  to 
see  one  of  the  English  princes  who  was  passing 
through  Orleans  and  had  honored  the  Dalesworthys 
by  being  present,  I  stepped  aside  from  the  screen 
and  looked  steadfastly  at  him,  being,  as  I  thought. 


THE    MISERY   OF   THE   WORLD 


337 


are 

ing 
;hat 


le." 
por- 
^hen 
;  has 


at; 

5  said 
richer 
I  girls 

laid 

ng," 
Dnceal 
lat  he 

"Did 

ball? 
Dales- 
laugh- 
screen 
e  dan- 
ous  to 
)assing 
^orthys 
screen 
lought, 


unperceived.  To  my  wonder  I  saw  Mrs.  Dales- 
worthy  approaching,  accompanied  by  an  equerry, 
who  informed  me  that  it  was  the  wish  of  the  prince 
to  dance  with  me.  They  were  both  smiling,  and 
as  you  may  imagine  I  was  exceedingly  embarrassed. 
'  Do  not  speak  until  you  are  addressed,'  Mrs.  Dales- 
worthy  whispered  ;  the  prince  bowed  and  offered 
his  arm,  murmuring,  '  Mademoiselle  has  not  been 
dancing.'  I  told  him  about  our  being  behind  the 
screen,  and  he  seemed  greatly  amused,  and  later  on 
requested  to  have  Mrs.  Dalesworthy's  daughters 
presented  to  him.  I  speak  French,  as  you  know, 
with  an  English  accent,  and  the  prince  perceiving 
it,  and  finding  that  I  came  from  Nova  Scotia,  said 
a  few  words  about  our  'loyal  Canada*  that  you  may 
be  sure  excessively  gratified " 

The  passers-by  were  gone,  and  her  voice  broke, 
"That  is  what  I  suspected — dreaded,"  she  said 
bitterly  ;  *'  and  it  is  the  last  humiliation  to  which  I 
shall  be  subjected  in  this  unhappy  house.  Let  me 
go,"  to  Armour,  who  had  put  his  arm  about  her, 
"  I  do  not  wish  to  hear  you  speak." 

"Unhappy  child,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  "go 
then,  if  you  will,  and  I  will  come  to  you  as  soon  as 
I  can." 

Vivienne  went  swiftly  upstairs,  till  she  stopped  in 
the  prettily  furnished  hall  outside  her  rooms,  and 
put  her  hand  confusedly  to  her  forehead.  Star- 
garde  lay  on  a  broad  divan,  her  face  as  white  as 

w 


338 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


death,  her  features  contracted  in  horrible  suffering, 
while  Judy,  who  was  the  only  person  with  her,  hung 
over  the  railing  intent  on  the  scene  below. 

"Judy,"  cried  Vivienne,  springing  to  Stargarde's 
side,  "  what  is  this  ?  " 

"  Oh,  what  a  wretch  I  am ! "  exclaimed  Judy. 
"  Stargarde,  dear  Stargarde,  won't  you  speak  to 
me?     Come,  wake  up,  or  I  shall  go  for  Brian." 

"What  is  it?  What  is  wrong  with  her?"  ex- 
claimed Vivienne. 

'*The  usual  thing,  one  of  her  attacks.  Try  to 
rouse  her  and  I'll  get  Brian,"  and  slipping  rapidly 
downstairs  by  means  of  a  hand  placed  on  the  rail- 
ing, Judy  disappeared. 

"Stargarde,  my  darling,"  murmured  Vivienne, 
caressing  her  tortured  face,  "look  at  me." 

One  glance  of  intense  affection  she  received  from 
Stargarde's  deep  blue  eyes,  then  the  distorted  fea- 
tures composed  themselves,  and  the  sufferer  seemed 
to  sink  into  a  disturbed  sleep. 

So  quickly  that  Vivienne  wondered  how  he 
could  have  gotten  there,  Camperdown  gently  thrust 
her  a«?ide,  and  knelt  down  by  the  divan.  "  Star- 
garde," he  said  slightly  shaking  her,  "  Stargarde," 
then  bitterly,  "Too  late;  she  has  gone  off." 

"  Come  in  here,"  whispered  Judy,  drawing  Vivi- 
enne into  her  room.  "  Brian  is  furious  with  me  ; 
he  was  afraid  that  one  of  these  things  was  coming 
on,  and  when  Val  came  for  him  to  go  downstairs, 


1 1   'i|iiii«i'i 

!|t      :i!!'ni!iilii 


m 


THE   MISERY   OF   THE   WORLD 


339 


be 

thrust 

Star- 

irde," 

Vivi- 
me  ; 

)ming 
Istairs, 


he  told  me  to  talk  steadily  to  Stargarde  and  not 
let  her  fall  into  one  of  them  ;  the  great  thing  is  to 
keep  her  attention." 

'  *'  What  is  it  ?    Oh,  what  is  it  she  has  ?  "  and  Vivi- 
enne  clasped  her  hands  in  distress. 

"  I  call  it  *  the  misery  of  the  world,'  "  said  Judy, 
dropping  her  voice.  "A  few  years  ago  Stargarde 
was  in  New  York,  visiting  some  philanthropic  peo- 
ple. One  evening  they  were  going  to  make  a  round 
of  the  slums.  They  put  on  old  clothes  and  took 
some  policemen,  and  Stargarde  went  with  them. 
They  got  into  wicked  places  where  men  and  women 
of  all  nations  were  ;  I  don't  know  what  they  saw, 
but  there  were  some  dreadful  things,  and  ever  since 
then,  when  Stargarde  gets  run  down  and  has  noth- 
ing to  take  her  mind  off  it,  she'll  sit  down  some- 
where, and  all  the  badness  that  is  going  on  in  the 
world  comes  up  before  her  like  a  panorama ;  she 
thinks  about  the  men  and  women  in  China  and 
Japan  and  India,  and  the  poor  wretches  in  London 
and  New  York,  and  it  almost  makes  her  crazy. 
I've  seen  her  throwing  herself  about  just  like  an 
actress  on  a  stage,  only  with  poor  Stargarde  it  is 
real.  You  know  how  big  she  is  ;  her  limbs  get  con- 
vulsed and  her  face  looks  like  the  Laocoon's,  and  she 
is  so  beautiful ;  wherever  she  is  and  one  of  these 
seizures  comes  on,  some  one  sends  for  Brian.  I've 
seen  him  sitting  by  her  with  the  perspiration  drop- 
ping off  his  face.     It  gives  him  an  awful  fright,  for 


i 


340 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


mm 

ml 


ill 

51  i\ 


m 

t  ■ ' ' 


II  'I 


III 


he  says  she  might  die  in  one  of  them  ;  he's  afraid 
of  her  heart.  Sometimes  blood  comes  on  her 
face,"  added  Judy  in  an  awestruck  whisper. 

Vivienne  was  unable  to  speak. 

"This  is  not  a  bad  one,"  said  Judy  gazing  con- 
solingly into  her  terror-stricken  face.  *'  She's  in  a 
kind  of  trance  ;  I  don't  think  Brian  will  even  have 
to  give  her  morphine — wait  till  I  see,"  and  she  tip- 
toed to  the  door.  "She's  lying  quite  still,"  she 
reported,  coming  back ;  "only  moaning  occasionally. 
Vivienne  dear,  I  am  going  to  bed.  I  don't  dare 
to  face  Brian  again ;  he  looks  so  annoyed." 

When  Mr.  Armour  mounted  to  the  topmost  hall 
in  search  of  Vivienne,  his  eye  fell  on  Stargarde  lying 
in  unconsciousness  on  the  divan. 

"What  does  this  mean?  "  he  asked  of  Mammy 
Juniper  who  sat  by  her. 

"Again  the  Lord  has  laid  his  hand  on  her,"  said 
the  old  woman  solemnly. 

Mr.  Armour  seated  himself  beside  his  half-sister, 
and  affectionately  drew  the  rug  more  closely  about 
her.     "Where  is  Camperdown  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  He's  gone  to  get  some  supper  for  Miss  Judy," 
and  Mammy  looked  toward  the  closed  doors  of 
Vivienne's  rooms. 

She  rarely  mentioned  Vivienne's  name,  but  Mr. 
Armour  knew  by  her  expression  that  the  two  girls 
were  together. 

"Tear  her  out  of  your  heart,  my  son,"  said 


aid 
her 


con- 
in  a 
have 
:  tip- 
'  she 
lally. 
dare 

thall 
lying 

immy 

"  said 

l-sister, 
about 

fudy," 
)rs  of 

it  Mr. 
girls 


THE   MISERY   OF   THE   WORLD 


341 


V* 


said 


Mammy  Juniper  in  a  sudden  vehement  whisper. 
"  'Tis  not  the  Lord's  will." 

A  terrible  gloom  and  depression  overspread  the 
face  that  he  held  in  his  hands  as  he  leaned  forward 
supporting  his  elbows  on  his  knees. 

"  Mammy's  boy,"  said  the  old  woman  affection- 
ately fondling  his  head.  "  If  thine  eye  offend  thee, 
pluck  it  out." 

"  Oh  this  agony  of  indecision  ! "  he  muttered, 
looking  about  him  as  if  for  help  ;  "  if  I  only  knew 
what  is  right " 

"Trust  Mammy,"  said  the  colored  woman  per- 
suasively.    "She  has  asked  the  Lord  about  it." 

"Hush,  old  woman!"  interposed  Camperdown 
coming  up  the  steps  behind  her  bearing  a  tray 
aloft.  "Give  your  counsels  of  vengeance  to  the 
winds,  and  don't  stir  up  this  family  to  any  more 
wickedness.  Try  to  soften  their  hearts,  not  harden 
them.  And  don't  be  so  sure  that  you  are  a  mes- 
senger of  the  Lord.  I  think  the  devil  sometimes 
tampers  with  your  messages.  Stanton,  Miss  Dela- 
vigne  is  in  trouble  about  Stargarde " 

Armour  immediately  got  up — a  resolved  look 
upon  his  face. 

"  Here,  take  this  with  you,"  said  Dr.  Camperdown 
handing  him  the  tray.  "  Persuade  Vivienne  to  go 
downstairs.  Mammy  Juniper  and  I  will  look  after 
Stargarde." 

Dr.   Camperdown   looked   severely  at  Mammy 


342 


THE   HOUSE  OF   ARMOUR 


II 


(!■: 


il  i! 


Juniper  after  Armour  had  entered  the  room. 
"  Don't  you  see  that  every  drop  of  blood  in  his 
body  is  crying  out  for  that  girl  ?  You  might  as 
well  try  to  stop  Niagara  with  one  of  your  fingers 
as  to  check  him  now.  Let  him  alone  and  all  will 
be  well.  Your  role  now  should  be  that  of  peace- 
maker, and  you'll  find  your  hands  full  with 
Valentine." 

The  old  woman  groaned,  shook  her  head,  and 
with  an  appearance  of  the  greatest  dejection  sat 
swinging  herself  to  and  fro. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 


NOT  TO    BE   REPEATED 


JUDY  had  gone  to  bed  and  Vivienne  was  pacing 
swiftly  up  and  down  the  room. 

Armour  would  never  see  her  like  that  again. 
Her  face  was  flushed  and  contorted,  her  head  held 
high,  and  in  all  her  tempers  and  mental  disturbances 
she  had  never  flung  him  so  passionate  a  glance. 

"Put  it  down,"  she  said  with  a  haughty  gesture 
in  the  direction  of  the  tray. 

"Will  you  eat  nothing? "  he  said.    " It  is  late." 

"  No,  I  will  not" 

He  stood  quietly  watching  her. 

"  Now,  proud  man,  you  see  me  humbled,"  she 
exclaimed. 

He  smiled  compassionately.  There  was  certainly 
not  a  trace  of  humility  either  in  her  tone  or  her 
attitude. 

"I  don't  think  that  any  one  ever  suffered  so 
much,"  she  said  suddenly  stopping  and  clasping 
her  hands.  "  I — to  be  so  disgraced,  so  unspeakably 
debased — oh,  it  is  hard  to  bear!"  and  dropping  on 
one  of  the  white  couches  in  the  room  she  burst 
into  passionate  crying. 

343 


I 


i 


m;*'-—    ■: 

■^T 

-r_ 

■ 

.'-  ^'-^N^^ 

^  !  ^'^^'-tl^H 

"viPfiJ^^^H 

■r^v^'^'^i^H 

^^^^^1 

''«|^; 

I 

''\i^- 


Hi  I'll  i! 


ummk  - 


■ 


I 


344 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"Poor  little  girl,"  said  Armour  pityingly  coming 
to  stand  over  her. 

'*  Go  away,"  she  cried,  flinging  herself  into  an 
upright  position.  "  Why  did  you  come  up  here  ? 
I  do  not  wish  to  see  you.  Do  you  forget  my  odious 
designs  upon  you  ?  " 

"  Silly  gossip,"  he  said,  stooping  down  to  stroke 
her  hair. 

At  his  touch  she  immediately  became  calm. 
"Mr.  Armour,"  she  said  pleadingly,  "may  I  leave 
here  to-morrow?" 

"Yes,"  he  said  soothingly,  "any  time  you  will." 

"I  will  go  away  with  Staigarde,"  she  murmured. 
"Do  not " 

"  Do  not  v/hat,  Vivienne  ?  " 

"  Do  not  do  that,"  she  exclaimed  pushing  his 
face  away.  "  How  can  you  touch  me — I  the 
daughter  of  a  forger  and  a  thief?  " 

"Vivienne,  do  you  love  me?  "  he  asked  gently. 

"  You  insult  me  deeply — deeply,"  she  said.  "  Do 
I  love  you  ?  Is  that  a  question  for  a  man  to  ask  a 
woman  ?  I  wish  that  you  would  leave  me.  I  am 
not  in  a  condition  to  talk  to  you." 

"I  love  you,  then — is  that  better?"  he  asked 
indulgently. 

"  You  do  not !"  she  exclaimed  wildly.  "  Do  not 
perjure  yourself  If  you  kiss  me  again  I  shall  send 
you  from  the  room." 

"  Do  you  love  me  ?  "  he  repeated  with  persistence. 


! 


itly. 
•♦Do 
5k  a 

ll  am 


sked 


not 
send 


jnce. 


NOT   TO    BE    REPEATED 


345 


She  sprang  away  from  him  and  resumed  her 
exv^.ited  pacing  to  and  fro. 

"  Do  I  love  you  ?  Yes — no — what  does  it  matter  ? 
Suppose  I  do  love  a  man  who  prizes  me  simply  as 
he  does  his  other  goods  and  chattels.  '1  could  not 
be  more  miserable  than  I  am  now.  I,  who  have  been 
so  proud  of  my  unblemished  name.  I  wish — I  wish 
that  I  could  die,"  and  she  buried  her  face  in  her 
hands. 

"  I  could  not  lash  myself  into  such  a  passion  as 
you  are  in  if  I  lost  everything  in  the  world,"  said 
Armour. 

"Yet  you  know  how  to  suffer/'  she  interposed 
impetuously. 

"  Yes  ;  perhaps  if  you  knew  what  it  costs  me  to 
say  to  you,  '  Vivienne,  love  me  and  be  my  wife,' 
you  would  not  be  so  hard  on  me." 

"  That  is  it,"  she  replied  with  a  despairing  ges- 
ture. "  You  fancy  that  I  admire  you.  You  wish  to 
have  me  all  to  yourself;  you  are  a  man  to  be 
respected  by  women  but  not  adored,  and  you  are 
consumed  with  pride  to  find  one  who  does  adore 
you  ;  I  understand  you." 

"Partly  only,"  he  replied.  "Vivienne,  come 
here." 

"  I  will  not." 

"I  foresee  a  stormy  courtship."  he  said  in  an  un- 
dertone. Then  anxious  to  try  his  power  over  her 
he  added  aloud,  "Vivienne,  please  come  here." 


i>  1 


't  / 1. 


346 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


;t 


**  I  will  not,"  she  said  again,  but  in  her  goings  to 
and  fro  her  feet  seemed  to  carry  her  nearer  him  in 
spite  of  herself. 

"Come,"  he  said,  holding  out  his  hands. 

"  I  will  not,"  she  said  a  third  time,  but  the  words 
were  feeble  and  her  outstretched  finger  tips  rested 
on  his  hands. 

"  Sit  there  now,  unreasoning  child,"  he  said, draw- 
ing her  to  his  knee,  "  and  let  us  talk  this  matter 
over.  I  have  something  to  tell  you  that  will  greatly 
astonish  you." 

Her  black  head  drooped  to  his  shoulder.  "What 
is  it? "  she  said  feebly. 

"  I  have  good  reason  to  believe  that  your  father 
is  not  the  villain  he  is  supposed  to  be." 

"Is  not,"  she  repeated  keenly.  "Is  he  not 
dead  ?  " 

"  No,"  quietly  ;  "  I  do  not  think  so." 

She  made  a  bewildered  gesture.  "  I  am  sur- 
prised at  nothing  now ;  but  why  do  you  say  this  ?  " 

"I  think  I  would  have  heard  of  it  if  he  had 
died." 

The  girl  was  too  excited  to  sit  still.  She  sprang 
up  again  and  moved  restlessly  about  him.  "  You 
understand  him,"  she  said;  "ah,  why  have  you 
not  talked  to  me  of  him  before  ?  " 

"You  have  never  asked  me  to  do  so." 

She  stopped  short,  measured  him  with  a  quick, 
comprehensive  glance,  then  resumed  her  restless 


sur- 
ds?" 
had 

>rang 

You 

you 


[uick. 
istless 


) 


NOT  TO    BE   REPEATED 


347 


movements.  She  could  not  understand  him  ;  it  was 
useless  to  try  to  do  so.  "You  liked  my  father," 
she  said  impulsively. 

"  Yes  ;  as  a  lad  my  father  and  Etienne  Delavigne 
were  my  ideals  ;  your  father  was  very  patient  and 
kind  to  me.  He  gave  me  my  first  instruction  in 
business  principles." 

"  And  were  they  all  they  ought  to  be  ?  "  asked 
the  girl  passionately.  "  Did  he  teach  you  anything 
dishonorable?" 

"  No  ;  he  did  not" 

"Then  why  did  he  change?"  she  asked  with 
one  of  her  eloquent  gestures. 

"  I  have  told  you  already  that  I  do  not  think  he 
did.  I  do  not  know,  but  I  have  a  clue.  Some  day 
I  may  clear  him.  I  have  been  looking  for  him  for 
years." 

Vivienne  gazed  at  him  with  a  swift-flushing  face. 
"  Oh,  how  grateful  I  am  to  you !  Where  do  you 
think  he  is  ?  " 

"  In  some  of  the  large  cities  of  the  States." 

"Why  would  he  not  stay  in  Canada?  " 

"  He  would  be  afraid  of  meeting  some  one  who 
knew  him." 

"You  know  everything,"  she  said  vivaciously, 
"and  I  know  nothing.     Tell  me  more — more." 

"Come  and  sit  beside  me  then,"  he  said  ;  "you 
disturb  me  with  your  uneasiness.  There,  that  is 
better.     When  your  mother  died,  your  father,   I 


1.1; 


348 


THE   HOUSE  OF  ARMOUR 


.^ 


I  ■  w 


'1< 


think,  resolved  to  go  to  some  large  city,  change  his 
name,  and  work  quietly  at  something  till  he  died. 
It  is  very  hard  to  find  him  among  millions  of  men ; 
but  he  can  be  found,  and  for  this  purpose  I  have 
employed  different  means." 

He  paused  for  a  few  instants,  but  Vivienne,  who 
was  listening  with  eager,  breathless  interest  urged 
him  on. 

"I  employ  detectives,  advertise "  and  he 

stopped  again. 

"  It  must  cost  a  great  deal  of  money,"  she  said. 
"  But  why  did  my  father  go  away?  What  was  it 
that  he  did  ?  " 

"  I  will  not  explain  the  whole  thing  to  you  to- 
night, you  are  too  much  wrought  up  already.  I 
will  simply  say  that  your  father  was  accused  of  for- 
gery. I  believe  he  found  himself  in  the  position  of 
an  innocent  man  who  cannot  prove  that  he  is  not 
guilty.     Being  of  a  timid  disposition  he  ran  away." 

"And  left  me." 

**  And  left  you,"  repeated  Armour,  "to  me.  He 
knew  that  I  would  take  care  of  you ;  and  in  his 
fatherly  affection  he  would  not  have  your  name 
coupled  with  his  dishonored  one.  He  wishes  to  be 
considered  dead,  and  so  he  is  by  every  one  here 
but  myself  and  one  or  two  others." 

"There  is  an  immense  load  off  my  mind,"  said 
Vivienne,  laying  a  hand  on  her  breast ;  "  but  I  am 
not  happy  yet" 


I 


NOT  TO    BE   REPEATED 


349 


said 
am 


"  You  will  not  be  happy  till  you  give  up  your 
will  to  mine,"  said  Armour  persuasively.  "  You  will 
marry  me  ?  " 

•*  No,  no ;  never,"  she  said,  with  eyes  devouring 
every  line  of  his  face.  "  I  will  never  marry  a  man 
who  does  not  love  me  as  I  love  him.  Yet — ^yet  just 
for  to-night  let  me  imagine  that  you  love  me,  that 
you  worship  me.  Let  me  draw  your  dear  head  on 
my  shoulder  like  this,"  and  suddenly  going  behind 
his  chair  she  flung  her  arms  around  his  neck.  "  Let 
me  smooth  back  your  hair  and  tell  you  that  I  love 
you,  love  you,  and  yet  I  can  never  marry  you.  For 
the  last  time  I  will  kiss  you " 

"There  never  was  a  first  time,"  murmured  Ar- 
mour, who,  nevertheless,  was  deeply  moved  by  her 
emotion. 

"And  I  will  tell  you,"  she  continued,  "that  you 
have  won  what  many  another  man  has  tried  to  get 
and  never  will  get  at  all,  the  affection  and  adora- 
tion and  sympathy  of  one  foolish  woman's  heart." 

"Why  foolish?  "  he  asked,  putting  up  a  hand  to 
try  to  induce  her  to  come  from  behind  him  so  that 
he  might  see  her  face. 

She  clung  the  closer  to  his  neck.  "  Because," 
she  said,  "you  have  found  out  that  I  love  you.  I 
should  never  have  allowed  you  to  know  it.  I  have 
fretted  over  it  and  worried  and  cried  till  I  was  ill, 
but  it  was  of  no  use." 

"  It  was  fate,"  he  said  ;  "you  will  marry  me  ?  " 


350 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  Good-night,"  she  murmured  ;  "  good-night, 
good-night.     You  will  never  see  me  like  this  again." 

He  felt  her  warm  lips  on  his  ear  and  cheek,  then 
she  was  gone.  He  hastily  got  up  and  had  one 
glimpse  of  her  before  she  disappeared  into  her 
room,  one  hand  clasping  the  train  of  her  white 
gown,  her  head  ca!ried  well  in  the  air. 

"  Not  to  be  repeated,  eh  ?  "  he  muttered  disap- 
provingly. "  Well,  we'll  see  about  that,"  and  with 
eyes  bent  thoughtfully  on  the  floor  he  too  left  the 
room.  In  the  hall  he  ran  against  Camperdown. 
•'  How  is  Stargarde  ?  "  he  asked. 

"All  right ;  how  is  ma'm'selle?  " 

"All  wrong,"  and  Armour's  strong  white  teeth 
gleamed  for  an  instant  through  his  heavy  mustache. 
Then  he  went  on  his  way  downstairs,  trying  to  re- 
call to  his  mind  a  gipsy  prophecy  uttered  about 
him  when  he  was  a  lad,  strolling  one  day  about  the 
environs  of  Halifax  with  Etienne  Delavigne.  Ah, 
this  was  it ;  the  old  woman,  thrusting  her  wedge- 
shaped  face  close  to  his,  had  muttered  it  twice : 
"Self  first,  wife  second,  friends  a  matter  of  indif- 
ference, reputation  dearer  than  life." 

"A  part  of  it  has  come  true,"  said  Armour  heav- 
ily ;  "  I  wonder  what  about  the  rest?  " 


1 1 


>l 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 


MISKEPT   ACCOUNTS 


VIVIENNE  kept  her  word.  When  Armour 
got  up  the  next  morning  he  found  that  she 
had  already  gone  to  the  Pavilion  with  Stargarde. 

With  much  inward  chafing  and  impatience  he 
listened  to  Judy,  who  prattled  of  her  speedy  return, 
and  to  Mrs.  Colonibel  who  over  their  late  break- 
fast table  talked  with  languid  irritability  of  several 
occurrences  that  had  displeased  her  during  the 
course  of  the  ball. 

During  the  day  he  called  at  the  Pavilion.  Vivi- 
enne  was  out  and  Stargarde  received  him. 

"Yes,  she  has  told  me  everything,"  she  said 
sympathetically ;  "  and  Stanton,  you  must  have  pa- 
tience with  her.  She  is  in  a  terribly  disturbed  state 
of  mind.  You  are  so  dififerent  from  her  and  she  is 
so  young  and  does  not  altogether  understand  that 
your  temperament  is  a  total  contrast  to  hers." 

"  I  have  great  respect  for  your  judgment,"  said 
Armour  quietly.  "  I  shall  do  as  you  say.  Do  you 
think  that  she  will  make  a  suitable  wife  for  me?" 

"Yes,  oh  yes,"  said  Stargarde  enthusiastically; 
"but  do  not  forget  that  it  is  not  the  master  of  Pine- 

351 


352 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


W  ^j 


m 


Fil' 


i 


1 


•-*" 


Is  I*  '■ 

i 

iv  it; 

:]■■' 

'-' :  i-h' 


W 


W- 


wood  with  whom  she  has  fallen  in  love — it  is  the 
man.  Your  social  position  and  wealth  are  small 
matters  to  her.  It  is  your  undivided  attention  that 
she  craves." 

"She  has  it,"  he  said  heartily,  "as  far  as  any 
woman  can." 

"  She  will  realize  that  in  time  ;  in  the  meantime 
one  must  give  her  a  chance  for  reflection." 

"There  is  some  difference  between  our  ages," 
said  Armour  uneasily.  "  I  wish  for  her  sake  that 
I  were  a  younger  man." 

Stargarde  smiled  languidly.  "  I  referred  to  that 
and  she  said  she  would  not  care  if  you  were  a 
hundred." 

"  That  sounds  like  her,"  he  said  with  satisfaction. 
"  I  will  go  now  lest  I  should  meet  her." 

"Yes,  do  so,"  said  Stargarde  with  sweet  inhos- 
pitality ;  "  and  try  to  keep  away  from  here  for  a 
time." 

"  I  will,"  he  said,  and  after  a  little  further  con- 
versation he  left  her  and  went  back  to  what  he 
speedily  found  to  be  a  very  lonely  house.  There 
was  no  more  cheerful  girlish  chatter  about  the  halls 
and  in  the  rooms  of  his  dwelling,  for  as  the  days 
went  by,  Judy  with  her  usual  shrewdness  discovered 
the  situation  of  affairs,  and  calmly  absented  herself 
from  home  and  presented  herself  at  the  Pavilion  at 
all  manner  of  unseasonable  hours. 

"  If  you  have  a  pretty  flower,"  she  said  coolly. 


MISKEPT   ACCOUNTS 


353 


*'  and  some  one  else  picks  it,  you  can  at  least  go 
and  sit  down  beside  it  and  enjoy  its  perfume, 
though  why  this  particular  hothouse  bloom  should 
choose  to  transplant  itself  among  weeds  and  stub- 
ble is  more  than  I  can  imagine — making  petticoats 
and  aprons  for  old  women  too.  Stuff  and  non- 
sense !    She'll  soon  get  over  it." 

Weeks  passed  away  and  Armour  in  a  kind  of 
dull  resignation  continued  his  solitary  life.  Judy 
was  rarely  at  home  and  Mrs.  Colon ibel  had  grown 
strangely  quiet  and  haggard.  She  was  also  losing 
her  flesh.  Armour  did  not  know  what  was  the 
matter  with  her,  though  he  knew  quite  well  what 
ailed  his  brother,  who  at  home  was  always  dull  now, 
never  merry,  and  who  so  often  returned  from  the 
town  with  a  bright  red  spot  in  each  cheek. 

At  such  times  Armour  eyed  him  keenly  and  sus- 
piciously, for  he  knew  that  the  red  spots  betokened 
a  visit  to  the  Pavilion. 

"Valentine  has  developed  quite  a  fondness  for 
Stargarde's  society,"  said  Judy  one  day  in  a  vexed 
way.  "  I  wish  that  he  would  stay  at  home.  No 
one  is  happy  when  he  is  about,  for  he  teases  unmer- 
cifully, from  the  dog  up  to  the  human  beings." 

Camperdown  disapproved  hugely  of  the  situa- 
tion of  affairs.  "  It  is  always  the  unexpected  that 
occurs,"  he  said  one  day  to  Stargarde  ;  "but  I 
didn't  expect  such  a  block  as  this.  I'm  going  to 
interfere.     That  girl  is  worrying  you  to  death." 

X 


354 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"No,  she  is  not,"  said  Stargarde ;  "she  really  is 
not,  Brian." 

"I  don't  believe  you,"  he  said  stoutly.  "Any- 
way, she's  worrying  me,  and  her  mission  in  the 
world  is  to  keep  that  family  together.  I'm  going 
to  talk  to  her." 

"  Don't  offend  her,  Brian." 

"There  now — ^she  is  coming  between  us,"  he 
growled.     "I'll  not  have  it" 

A  day  or  two  later  came  his  chance  for  a  conver- 
sation with  Vivienne.  Accompanied  by  Stargarde's 
dog  she  had  left  the  Pavilion  immediately  after 
breakfast,  and  had  gone  for  an  early  constitutional. 
She  liked  to  saunter  along  the  streets  and  look  in 
the  shop  windows  before  the  rosy-cheeked  matrons 
and  maids  came  trooping  from  north,  south,  and 
west  to  do  their  shopping  in  the  business  quarter 
of  the  town,  which  lies  along  the  water's  edge. 

As  she  stood  examining  with  a  critical  and  ap- 
proving eye  the  many  soft  fur  garments  hung  up 
in  a  shop  window,  Dr.  Camperdown  came  suddenly 
around  the  corner  of  the  street,  swinging  himself 
carelessly  along,  his  hands  in  the  pockets  of  his 
huge  raccoon  coat,  in  which  he  looked  like  a  grizzly 
bear — amiable  or  unamiable  as  his  humor  happened 
to  be. 

Catching  sight  of  Vivienne  he  moderated  his 
pace,  and  came  to  a  stop  without  being  perceived 
by  her.     As  the  girl  examined  a  waxen  lady  who 


MISKEPT   ACCOUNTS 


355 


illy  is 

'Any- 
n  the 
going 


»» 


he 


onver- 
jarde's 
^  after 
itional. 
ook  in 
latrons 
and 
uarter 

id  ap- 
ng  up 
ddenly 
imself 
of  his 
Tfizzly 
)pened 

ed  his 
:eived 
/  who 


was  enveloped  in  a  complete  suit  of  sealskin,  Dr. 
Camperdown  examined  her. 

"  Wax  doll  better  equipped  for  a  walk  than  girl 
is,"  he  soliloquized.  "Girl's  dress  might  do  for 
Parisian  boulevards — too  thin  for  Halifax  winter," 
and  he  sui-veyed  disapprovingly  the  quiet  elegance 
of  Vivienne's  brown  cloth  costume. 

Her  attire  was  certainly  better  suited  for  a  sum- 
mer or  autumn  day  than  one  in  February,  and  she 
shivered  slightly  as  she  stood  before  him. 

"  French  shoes  too,"  he  muttered,  looking  down 
at  her  feet.  "  No  overshoes  or  rubbers."  And 
as  if  unwilling  to  be  protected  from  the  cold  while 
she  was  suffering  from  it,  he  angrily  swung  off  his 
bulky  coat,  and  threw  it  over  his  shoulder,  saying 
as  he  did  so,  "Little  simpleton,  her  mind  is  so  pre- 
occupied that  she  doesn't  know  what  she  puts  on." 

Roused  by  his  half-uttered  words,  the  girl  turned 
around.  "Good-morning,"  he  said  grimly.  "Which 
is  your  pet  form  of  lung  disease  ?  If  you  just  men- 
tion it  you're  likely  to  have  it." 

"Ah,  Dr.  Camperdown,  is  it  you?"  she  said. 
"You  know  that  I  do  not  love  affliction  in  any 
shape.     Remember  how  I  grieved  over  my  cold.'' 

"You're  on  the  high  road  to  something  worse 
than  a  cold  now,"  he  said.  "  Have  you  no  thicker 
mantle  than  that ;  no  warm  bonnet?  " 

"  I  wear  neither  mantles  nor  bonnets,"  she  re- 
plied, pressing  her  hands  into  two  tiny  pockets  at 


I 


356 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


11 


the  sides  of  her  jacket  and  looking  up  smilingly 
at  him.  "And  I  was  sufficiently  warm  in  this  gown 
in  Scotland." 

"Old  Scotland  isn't  New  Scotland,"  he  grumbled. 
"  They  have  high  winds  there,  high  enough  to  take 
the  slates  off  the  roofs,  but  not  piercing  enough  to 
lay  your  heart  open,  as  they  do  here.  You  didn't 
look  out  to  see  what  sort  of  a  day  it  was  before  you 
left  the  house  ;  come  now,  did  you  ?  " 

"  Possibly  I  did  not,"  said  Vivienne. 

"  You  didn't,"  he  said  ;  "  I  know  you  didn't. 
Come,  let  us  walk  on  briskly,  lest  you  take  cold. 
When  are  you  going  to  cease  being  obdurate  ?  You 
needn't  stare  at  me,  ma'm'selle,  I'm  not  afraid  of 
your  black  eyes.  Look  here,  I've  something  to 
show  you,"  and  he  paused  on  a  street  corner  and 
drew  out  several  pieces  of  paper. 

The  first  one  was  a  ridiculous  caricature  of  Stan- 
ton Armour  standing  with  his  hands  wildly  clutched 
in  his  hair,  a  frantic  expression  on  his  face,  which 
was  upturned  to  the  sky. 

"  He's  grappling  with  the  biggest  worry  of  his 
life  here,"  said  her  companion,  laying  his  finger  on 
the  sketch.  "  He  thought  he'd  had  every  trouble 
in  the  world,  but  he  hadn't" 

Vivienne  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

"He  hadn't  fulfilled  his  destiny  by  falling  in  love. 
That  every  man  ought  to  marry  he  thought  was  a 
pernicious  doctrine." 


MISKEPT    ACCOUNTS 


357 


ingly 
gown 

ibled. 
»  take 
igh  to 
didn't 
re  you 


didn't, 
cold. 
?  You 
aid  of 
ing  to 
ir  and 

Stan- 
itched 
which 

of  his 
Iger  on 
Irouble 


In  love, 
was  a 


"  As  it  is,"  she  remarked  with  unexpected  spirit. 

Camperdown  scowled  at  her.  "  If  you  don't 
marry,  young  lady,  twenty  years  hence  you'll  be  a 
bad-tempered,  dricd-up,  withered  dame  that  no 
man  will  want  to  look  at" 

Vivienne  shrugged  her  beautiful  shoulders. 

"  See  what  a  beast  I  am,"  he  went  on  ;  "  all  be- 
cause I  didn't  marry.  I'm  too  selfish  to  live — come 
now,  don't  throw  me  pretty  glances.  You  can't 
cajole  me.  I  say  a  man  or  a  woman  who  remains 
unmarried  without  just  cause  for  doing  so,  is  a  de- 
testable egotist." 

Vivienne  bit  her  lip  and  cast  a  glance  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Mascerene,  who  was  patiently  enduring  every 
insult  from  a  passing  quarrelsome  dog. 

"  Let  him  alone,  and  think  about  Stanton,"  said 
Camperdown  impatiently.  **  He  fell  in  love,  as  I 
said.  See  him  here  overcome  by  the  discovery : 
'Merciful  heavens,  haven't  I  suffered  enough  with- 
out having  a  woman  flung  into  my  life,  or  rather, 
not  a  woman,  a  full-grown  creature,  but  a  slender 
reed  of  a  girl  ? '  I  am  sure  you  are  sorry  for  him. 
Miss  Delavigne,"  turning  suddenly  and  subjecting 
her  composed  features  to  an  intense  scrutiny. 

"  I  am  always  sorry  when  a  person  suffering  hap- 
pens to  be  one  whom  I  esteem." 

"  It  is  abominable  that  Stanton  should  have  led 
so  tortured  a  life,"  continued  the  physician  ;  '*  he 
has  been  martyrizing  ever  since  his  mother  died." 


3 


358 


THE   HOUSE  OF  ARMOUR 


^■■.■•l 


"  Unfortunate  man  ! " 

"But  he's  getting  over  it  here,"  unfolding  an- 
other bit  of  paper.  "  He's  thinking  that  it  isn't 
such  a  bad  thing  after  all  that  his  adored  one  is 
just  eighteen  years  younger  than  himself" 

Vivienne  laughed  despite  herself  at  the  dis- 
ordered appearance  of  her  always  faultlessly  at- 
tired guardian,  who  was  caricatured  as  sitting  at  a 
table,  his  hair  sticking  up  all  over  his  head,  his  fin- 
gers tracing  with  furious  haste  across  the  open  page 
of  a  huge  account  book  the  quotation. 

This  tough,  impracticable  heart 

Is  governed  by  a  dainty-fingered  girl. 

"Now  you  mustn't  laugh  at  this  one,"  he  said 
warningly,  as  he  turned  the  paper  over.  "  It's  too 
tragic.  *Will  she  many  me^  oh,  will  she  marry 
me  ? '  See,  there  is  the  wharf  and  the  deep  black 
water." 

Vivienne  did  laugh.  A  few  spirited  pencil  marks 
showed  a  man  and  a  maid  standing  beside  each 
other  at  the  end  of  a  wharf,  against  which  waves 
were  dashing.  The  girl's  face  was  averted,  the 
man's  attitude  plainly  said,  "  If  you  don't  do  as  I 
wish  you  to  I  shall  throw  myself  into  a  watery 
grave." 

•'  Oh,  put  it  away,"  she  said  merrily,  "  or  I  shall 
bring  disgrace  upon  myself  I  did  not  know  that 
you  had  so  great  a  talent  for  caricature." 


MISKEFr    ACCOUNTS 


359 


ing  an- 
it  isn't 
one  is 


:he  dis- 
;ssly  at- 
ing  at  a 
his  fin- 
en  page 


he  said 
It's  too 
:  marry 
p  black 

1  marks 
;  each 
waves 
d,   the 

do  as  I 
watery 

I  shall 
)w  that 


He  put  the  paper  in  his  pocket  and  said  gloom- 
ily :  "  If  I  had  a  sister  and  Stanton  Armour  asked 
her  to  marry  him  and  she  wouldn't,  I'd  shut  her  up 
somewhere." 

•'  What  a  regrettable  thing  for  Mr.  Armour  that 
this  obdurate  fair  one  is  not  related  to  you." 

"  Obdurate  ?  She's  not  obdurate,"  said  the  physi- 
cian, surveying  Vivienne  half  in  affection,  half  in 
irritation.  "  I  don't  understasid  some  men.  They 
beat  about  the  bush  and  examine  their  motives, 
and  shilly-shally  till  it  makes  one  wild  to  see  them. 
Why  don't  they  say  to  the  women  they  love,  '  I'm 
going  mad  for  love  of  you  ;  you  must  marry  me. 
I'll  wait  and  watch,  but  I  must  have  you.  You 
shall  not  marry  another  man  *  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Armour  is  of  a  different  nature,"  said 
Vivienne. 

"  No,  he  isn't,"  with  a  suppressed  laugh ;  "  only  it 
takes  him  longer  to  wake  up.  I  don't  l:now  what 
was  the  matter  with  him,  unless  he  was  thinking  of 
the  girl  rather  Kan  of  himself  Perhaps  he  thought 
that  she  didn'f  care  for  him.  Now  he's  got  a  hint 
to  the  contrary,  and  all  the  power  on  earth  won't 
keep  him  from  urging  his  suit.  I  suppose  you 
didn't  know  that  he  nearly  went  to  the  West  Indies 
in  one  of  his  ships  two  weeks  ago?  " 

"No:  I  did  not." 

"  He  has  some  trouble  that  I  don't  understand," 
said  Camperdown.     "Anyway,  I  told  him  that  if  he 


m 


W    I 


I' 

I! 


36o 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


didn't  do  something  to  stop  his  fretting,  he'd  be  ia 
an  insane  asylum  within  a  yean" 

"But  he  did  not  go  away." 

*'  No ;  something  happened  to  prevent.  He 
ought  to  go  somewhere  though.  Miss  Delavigne, 
have  you  not  betm  hasty?" 

"  I  think,  Dr.  Camperdown,  that  without  being  a 
brother,  you  exercise  the  privileges  of  one,"  she 
said  gravely. 

"  Then  adopt  me,"  he  said  ;  "  let  me  be  your 
brother  If  Heaven  had  vouchsafed  me  a  sister,  I 
should  have  prayed  that  she  might  be  like  you." 

Her  eyes  grew  moist  as  she  looked  into  his  wist- 
ful face.  She  just  touched  the  large  hand  ex- 
tended to  her,  but  her  fingers  were  immediately 
seized  in  a  warm  grasp. 

•'  You  don't  understand,"  she  said,  with  a  catch 
in  her  voice.  "He  really  docs  not  care.  He  does 
not  come  to  see  me." 

**  Overtures  will  be  made  you  in  the  course  of 
time  ;  will  you  receive  them  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  replied  breathlessly,  then  she  fairly 
ran  away  from  him. 

The  overtures  came  sooner  than  she  had  ex- 
pected. That  afternoon  as  she  sat  alone  over  the 
fire  an  urgent  message  came  over  the  telephone 
from  Judy. 

•' Vivienne,  is  that  you?  "  called  the  lame  girl  in 
an  anxious  voice. 


i) 


MISKEPT    ACCOUNTS 


361 


rirl  in 


"Yes;  it  is  I." 

"  Can  you  come  quickly  to  Pinewood  ?  No  one 
is  ill,  but  you  must  come.     I  cannot  explain." 

Vivienne  hurried  to  the  veranda,  where  she 
found  MacDaly  lounging  about.  "Will  you  get 
me  a  carriage  as  quickly  as  possible?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes,  revered  and  honored  lady  of  transcendent 
charms,"  he  replied;  then  with  considerable  alacrity 
he  gave  direction  to  his  long  legs  to  carry  him  as 
speedily  as  possible  to  the  nearest  cabstand. 

Vivienne,  with  a  wildly-beating  heart  and  eyes 
that  went  roving  affectionately  over  every  object 
on  the  well-known  road  to  Pinewood,  soon  found 
herself  before  the  hall  door  and  in  Judy's  embrace. 

"Come  in,  come  in,"  was  her  hurried  greeting. 
"  Mamma  asked  me  to  send  for  you.  I  don't  know 
what  is  going  to  happen,  but  I  think  there  is  some- 
thing wrong  with  her  accounts.  Stanton  asked  her 
to  bring  her  housekeeping  books  to  him  this  after- 
noon. He  examines  them  about  once  a  year.  I 
fancy  that  she  has  been  misappropriating." 

Vivienne  shrank  from  her.  "Judy,  what  are  you 
saying?" 

"The  truth,  I  fear,"  and  Judy  made  a  detestable 
face.  "  Do  you  think  mamma  would  hesitate  to 
steal  if  she  thought  she  wouldn't  be  found  out? 
No,  indeed  ;  but  Stanton  will  be  too  sharp  for  her, 
and  he  is  so  particular  that  if  he  finds  her  out  he 
will  be  in  a  terrible  rage." 


I 


ill  f  if  I  m 

m  H   M 


a 


362 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


?«      V: 


"  This  is  a  shocking  thing  that  you  are  saying ; 
surely  you  have  made  a  mistake." 

"  No,  I  have  not,"  said  Judy  stubbornly.  "  I 
wish  I  had.  Where  did  mamma  get  that  last  set 
of  jewelry?  where  those  English  dresses?  She 
must  have  squeezed  the  money  out  of  her  house- 
keeping." 

"Judy,  I  feel  very  much  in  the  way ;  you  should 
not  have  brought  me  here." 

"Are  you  not  willing  to  do  this  much  for  me?  " 
said  the  girl.  "Do  you  want  to  see  my  mother 
turned  out  of  doors  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Vivienne,  throwing  her  arm  around 
her  neck  ;  "but  what  can  I  do,  dear?  " 

"  You  can  do  more  with  Stanton  than  any  one. 
He  has  been  hateful  lately.  A  bear  with  two  sore 
paws  would  be  an  angel  compared  with  him.  I 
cannot  hear  mamma  saying  a  word.  She  must  be 
terribly  disturbed.  She  always  begins  to  shriek 
over  a  slight  thing.     Will  you  not  go  in  ?  " 

"Judy,  I  cannot,"  and  Vivienne  drew  away  from 
her. 

"  Stanton  is  raising  his  voice  ;  he  must  be  furi- 
ous," said  Judy,  placing  an  ear  at  the  door. 
"  What  is  he  saying ?  'Leave  here  at  once.'  Oh, 
Vivienne,  go  in,  go  in  !  Tell  him  that  she  cannot. 
What  will  people  say?  " 

Vivienne  was  standing  at  a  little  distance  from 
her,  and  she  did  not  move  till  Judy  threw  herself 


ii 


MISKEPT   ACCOUNTS 


363 


from 


upon  her  with  a  frantic,  "Vivienne,  she  is  my 
mother ;  I  do  not  love  her,  yet — yet ** 

••  Do  not  cry,  darling,"  said  Vivienne,  kissing  her 
impulsively.  "  I  will  do  as  you  wish,"  and  she 
knocked  at  the  door. 

••They  do  not  hear  you,"  said  Judy,  turning  the 
handle;  ••go  in  and  do  what  you  can,"  and  she 
ushered  her  champion  into  the  room. 

A  very  quiet  and  unobtrusive  champion  she  had 
introduced,  who  stopped  short  in  acute  distress. 
Armour  was  standing  with  his  back  to  the  door, 
yet  Vivienne  could  see  that  he  was  in  one  of  the 
terrible  rages  of  which  Judy  had  told  her.  Mrs. 
Colonibel  sat  at  a  table,  staring  with  wide-open, 
glassy  eyes  at  some  account  books  before  her. 

••  Speak  for  me,  Miss  Delavigne,"  she  said  with 
a  gasp  of  relief  "  I  have  offended  Stanton  mor- 
tally. You  can  feel  for  me  on  account  of  your 
father." 

Armour  turned  on  his  heel  and  his  face  under- 
went an  immediate  change ;  Vivienne  stretched 
out  her  hand  to  him.  Though  he  were  a  prey  to 
ten-fold  more  evil  passions  than  the  ones  which  pos- 
sessed him,  he  yet  was  the  man  that  she  loved.  He 
took  her  hand  silently,  then  he  said  sternly  to  his 
cousin  :  ••  Go ;  you  make  me  forget  you  arc  a 
woman.  Let  me  be  rid  of  you  to-night.  I  hope 
that  I  shall  never  see  your  face  again." 

Mrs.  Colonibel  burst  into  a  violent  fit  of  weep- 


364 


THE    HOUSE    OF   ARMOUR 


m' 


it  11 


ing.  "Oh,  Stanton,  give  me  a  little  chance,"  she 
sobbed  ;  "a  month  longer,  even  a  week,  to  prepare 
for  this.     You  will  ruin  my  prospects." 

"  You  have  heard  what  I  said,"  he  replied,  walk- 
ing away  from  her  to  a  window.  "You  can't 
change  my  resolve." 

"  Intercede  for  me,"  whispered  Mrs.  Colonibel 
as  she  passed  Vivienne;  "he  will  listen  to  you." 

Armour  stood  with  his  hands  behind  his  back 
till  the  door  closed.  Then  he  looked  around  to  see 
if  he  were  alone. 

Vivienne  still  remained — ^sorrowfu',  grieving,  and 
saying  not  a  word. 

"  How  did  you  come  here?  "  he  asked. 

"Judy  sent  for  me." 

"Ah,"  he  replied  significantly. 

He  resumed  his  scrutiny  of  the  outdoor  world 
and  for  a  long  time  made  no  further  remark.  Vivi- 
enne slipped  to  a  corner  of  a  sofa.  After  a  time 
he  began  to  pace  up  and  down  the  room  talking 
bitterly,  half  to  himself,  half  to  her. 

"  Always  the  same — trust  and  deceit,  honor  and 
lies.  They  are  all  in  league  against  me.  They 
deceive  me  in  one  direction  and  I  am  on  my  guard 
there  ;  then  there  is  a  change  of  position  and  I  am 
attacked  in  some  other  place.  Vivienne,"  abruptly, 
"I  would  rather  see  you  dead  than  deceitful." 

He  had  paused  close  to  her,  and  as  he  spoke  he 
gazed  into  her  face  with  piercing  scrutiny. 


MISKEPT   ACCOUNTS 


365 


:e  he 


"You  do  not  flinch,"  he  said ;  "yet  you  too  may 
be  acting  a  part.  Have  you  lured  me  on  with  shy 
defiance  and  pretty  girHsh  conceits  in  order  that 
you  may  count  another  victim  ?  " 

"  I  am  profoundly  sorry  for  you,"  said  the  girl. 
"  Your  faith  in  human  nature  has  received  another 
shock." 

"Which  does  not  add  to  my  charms,"  he  said 
harshly,  unhappily,  and  with  some  resentfulness. 
"  You  need  not  shrink  from  me.  I'm  not  going  to 
sit  down  beside  you." 

"Which  does  add  to  your  charms  for  me,"  said 
the  girl  with  great  firmness ;  "  and  I  am  not 
shrinking  from  you  but  making  a  place  for  you." 

His  expression  brightened,  and  he  dropped  on  the 
sofa  beside  her  and  laid  his  head  on  her  shoulder 
like  a  tired  child,  murmuring :  "  You  have  come 
back  to  me,  dear  little  girl.  Smooth  those  ugly 
wrinkles  from  my  face.  I  have  longed  to  feel  your 
hands  wandering  over  my  head  again." 

"I  first  loved  you  because  you  were  unhappy," 
said  Vivienne  composedly ;  "  but  it  breaks  my 
heart  to  see  you  like  this." 

"This  is  a  moment  of  weakness,"  he  said  lan- 
guidly, "of  mental  relaxation.  This  stirring  of 
one's  emotions  is  a  detestable  thing ;  and  I  have  it 
all  the  time,  I  who  was  born  for  a  tranquil  life." 

"Tell  me  all  your  troubles,"  whispered  Vivienne 
in  his  ear,  "everything,  everything." 


366 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


w 


I       l« 


M 


I  ! 


"  No,"  he  said  unexpectedly.  "  No,"  and  sud- 
denly straightening  himself  he  took  her  in  his  arms. 
He  was  a  strong  man  again,  and  Vivienne  fluttered 
a  little  in  his  grasp,  blushing  in  deep  perplexity 
and  wonder. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  go  away  ?  "  he  asked. 

"No,"  she  said  ;  "not  if  you  will  do  as  I  wish." 

"And  you  wish  to  be  mother  confessor?  " 

"  Yes ;  give  me  the  history  of  your  life,  your 
inner  life." 

"  Well — I  love  you,"  he  said. 

With  an  intense  passionate  gesture  the  girl  held 
her  head  well  back,  her  burning  dark  eyes  staring 
hard  into  his  flashing  blue  ones.  Yes,  there  was  a 
strength  and  fervor  of  devotion  there  that  she  could 
not  doubt.  She  dropped  the  arms  that  she  had 
outstretched  to  keep  him  from  her  with  an  unutter- 
ably satisfied  "Oh  !"  of  surprise. 

"A  curious  exclamation  that,"  he  said  teasingly; 
"  have  you  nothing  more  to  say  to  me  ?  " 

She  would  not  speak  for  a  long  time,  but  re- 
mained with  her  face  hidden  in  his  shoulder.  Fi- 
nally she  said  :  "When  did  you  find  this  out?" 

"  It  has  been  true  all  along,"  he  said ;  "  only  you 
would  not  believe  me." 

"Who  is  deceitful  now?"  she  cried. 

"  I  am  not  ;  I  really  have  loved  you  for  weeks^ 
only  I  have  been  a  stupid,  blundering  fool  about 
expressing  myself     When  will  you  marry  me  ?  " 


MISKEPT   ACCOUNTS 


367 


It  re- 
Fi- 

|y  you 


labout 


"  I  do  not  know.  You  will  not  send  Mrs.  Colo- 
nibel  away,  Stanton?" 

"Yes  I  will ;  do  not  speak  of  her,"  and  his  face 
darkened. 

"  Let  her  remain  for  a  time." 

"  Not  a  day." 

"  Not  to  please  me  ?  " 

"  Let  me  tell  you  what  she  has  done,"  and  some- 
what grimly  he  related  the  histoiy  of  his  cousin's 
thefts. 

"Why  does  not  your  face  change?"  he  asked 
when  he  finished  his  story  ;  "  why  do  you  not  look 
scornful  and  shrink  from  me  ?  " 

"  Why  should  I,  Stanton  ?  " 

"  I  come  of  the  same  stock.  Flora  was  an  Ar- 
mour before  she  married  old  Julius  Colonibel  for 
his  money.  This  family  is  like  a  blasted  tree, 
whose  branches  drop  off  one  by  one." 

"  But  the  trunk  remains  ;  it  will  be  sound  till  it 
falls,"  said  Vivienne,  trying  to  enclose  his  unhappy 
figure  in  her  arms ;  "  and  I  know  an  ivy  that  will 
cling  to  it." 

"  God  bless  the  ivy,  the  confiding  ivy,"  he  mut- 
tered with  a  clearing  of  face. 

"And  you  will  forgive  Flora,  Stanton?" 

"Forgive,  forgive,"  he  repeated  ;  "what  an  easy 
word  to  say  and  what  a  hard  thing  to  do.  Shall 
one  word  be  the  end  of  her  sin  against  me  for 
months?" 


368 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  You  have  nothing  to  do  with  her  punishment," 
said  Vivienne  softly.  "  God  takes  care  of  us  when 
we  sin.  Flora  has  already  suffered.  Put  that 
thought  aside  and  go  to  make  your  toilet  for 
dinner." 

"  I  do  not  wish  any  dinner,"  he  said. 

Vivienne  looked  at  him  mournfully.  "And  I 
am  so  hungry !" 

He  smiled.  "  Well,  my  child,  I  hope  for  your 
sake  that  the  bill  of  fare  is  all  you  can  desire." 

"  It  will  not  be  if  you  are  not  there.  The  dain- 
tiest dishes  will  turn  to  dust  and  ashes  in  my 
mouth." 

**  How  she  loves  me — this  little  girl,"  he  said, 
holding  her  at  arms'  length  and  fondly  inspecting 
her. 

"  It  grieves  me  when  you  brood  over  troubles," 
she  continued,  with  a  contraction  of  her  dark 
brows.  "  You  are  a  true  Anglo-Saxon.  Try  to  be 
light-hearted." 

"  I  place  myself  at  your  disposal,"  he  said. 
"Tell  me  what  to  do." 

"  Ah,  you  have  spoken  ;  now  do  not  retract.  Go 
immediately  to  unhappy  Flora.  Try  to  make  her 
comprehend  that  you  forgive  her,  that  she  shall 
never  be  forced  to  leave  Pinewood,  that  I  and  you 
also  wish  her  to  stay." 

"  No,  no,  "  he  interrupted,  "  I  cannot  agree  to 
that." 


MISKEPT   ACCOUNTS 


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nent," 
J  when 
t  that 
let  for 


And  I 

r  your 
e." 

e  dain- 
in  my 

e  said, 
Decting 

ubles," 

dark 

y^  tobe 

I   said. 


Iree  to 


"  Do  you  think  I  could  be  contented  in  a  para- 
dise even  with  you  from  which  unhappy  souls  have 
been  expelled?"  she  exclaimed. 

"  I  think  that  I  could  make  you  so." 

"You  could  not,  for  you  would  not  be  happy 
yourself  You  too  have  a  conscience,  and  you 
know  that  if  we  are  selfish  we  shall  be  miserable. 
Also  there  may  be  a  change  in  Flora,  and  though 
I  shall  be  fond  of  assuring  you  that  our  interests 
are  identical,  may  I  not  ask  whether  you  will  not 
promise  me  the  supreme  control  of  our  menage  ? ' 

''  I  will." 

"  And  who  always  keeps  his  promise  ?  You  are 
silent,  therefore  I  proceed.  After  visiting  Flora, 
go  to  your  room  and  practise  a  contented  smile 
before  your  glass,  then  descend  to  the  dining  room 
fully  prepared  to  welcome  our  adored  Stargarde, 
who  will  probably  come  out  to  dinner.  Will  you 
do  this  ?  " 

He  hesitated. 

"Then  all  is  at  an  end  between  us,"  she  said 
tragically.  "  I  can  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  a 
man  as  doleful  as  yourself" 

"You  dear  little  witch,"  and  he  put  out  a  hand 
to  detain  her,  but  her  laughing  face  looked  at  him 
from  a  door  across  the  hall,  and  he  was  obliged  to 
walk  across  to  her. 

"This  thing  has  cut  me  deeply,"  he  said,  "more 
deeply  than  you  can  understand.     If  you  will  con- 


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THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


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sent  to  remain  here  till  we  are  married,  Flora  may 
also  stay  till  then — that  is  if  she  will  keep  out  of 
my  sight  for  a  day  or  two." 

"Would  you  make  a  business  transaction  of  it?" 

"I  lay  no  claim  to  perfection." 

"Very  well,"  said  Vivienne  with  a  wise  shake  of 
her  head,  and  she  went  upstairs  to  Judy  who  was 
hanging  over  the  railing  above. 

"  It  is  shocking  about  Flora,"  she  murmured  ; 
"  but  if  I  allow  him  to  meditate  so  much  on  these 
family  problems  he  will  become  distracted." 


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CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE    MICMAC    KEEPS    HIS    CHARGE 

FEBRUARY  passed  away,  and  March  came — 
"  March  that  blusters  and  March  that  blows, 
March  the  pathway  that  leads  to  the  rose" — the 
month  hailed  with  delight  because  it  breaks  the  back 
of  the  Nova  Scotian  winter. 

In  a  lamblike  and  gentle  manner  it  succeeded 
snowy  February,  with  a  brilliant  sun,  not  too  high 
winds,  and  thawing,  melting  rivulets  in  every  di- 
rection running  from  rapidly-melting  snow-banks. 
But  after  the  first  of  the  month  there  was  a  change. 
Jack  Frost  again  clouded  the  windows,  an  icy  hand 
was  laid  on  the  rivulets,  the  snow-banks  no  longer 
decreased  in  size,  and  there  were  two  whole  weeks 
of  outdoor  skating. 

Lent  had  begun  and  the  winter  gayeties  had 
ceased.  Mrs.  Colonibel,  missing  the  stimulus  of  a 
constant  round  of  excitement  and  forced  to  think 
constantly  of  her  changed  position  in  the  house- 
hold, was  a  different  woman. 

Nominally  she  still  retained  her  old  place;  in 
reality  it  was  the  young  French  girl  who  was  the 
mistress,  who  was  consulted  on  all  possible  occa- 

371 


372 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


I'    ' 


I'!  '  R* 


w:  I 


sions  while  she  was  ignored.  She  accepted  the 
situation  with  rather  more  grace  than  might  have 
been  expected  and  only  on  rare  occasions  offered 
a  protest.  A  kind  of  reluctant  admiration  for  Vivi- 
enne  had  sprung  up  in  her  breast.  She  knew  that 
the  girl  on  one  pretext  and  another  was  delaying 
her  marriage  because  she  feared  that  Armour, 
though  willing  to  indulge  her  on  every  other  point 
would  probably  be  firm  with  regard  to  this  one ; 
his  cousin  would  not  be  allowed  to  remain  in  his 
house  nor  to  retain  the  slightest  authority  in  house- 
hold affairs — ^she  must  make  room  for  the  young 
wife. 

At  the  close  of  one  sunny  Saturday  afternoon, 
Mrs.  Colonibel  approaching  her  glass  with  a  kind  of 
horror  at  her  altered  appearance,  carefully  applied 
some  rouge  to  her  cheeks  and  then  went  drearily 
downstairs. 

It  was  nearly  dinner  time,  but  Valentine  was  the 
only  person  in  the  drawing  room.  Judy  and 
Vivienne  were  with  Stargarde,  with  whom  they 
spent  the  greater  part  of  their  time.  Stanton  had 
not  yet  come  and  Colonel  Armour  was  dining  in 
town. 

Valentine  stood  by  the  window,  his  hands  be- 
hind his  back,  his  eyes  bent  on  the  long,  glassy  ex- 
panse of  the  Arm,  where  a  number  of  boys  were 
skimming  to  and  fro  like  swallows.  He  looked 
around  as  Mrs.  Colonibel  entered  the  room.     His 


>ted  the 
ht  have 
offered 
for  Vivi- 
lew  that 
delaying 
Armour, 
ler  point 
his  one ; 
in  in  his 
n  house- 
young 

lernoon, 

1  kind  of 

r  applied 

drearily 

".  was  the 
ndy  and 
om  they 
iton  had 
lining  in 

ands  be- 
lassy  ex- 
Dys  were 
i  looked 
>m.     His 


THE   MICMAC    KEEPS   HIS    CHARGE 


373 


face  too,  was  restless  and  unhappy,  and  to  conceal 
it  he  turned  his  back  on  her  and  moved  toward 
the  open  conservatory  door. 

She  took  his  place  at  the  window.  The  huge, 
yellow  ball  of  the  sun  was  just  dropping  behind 
the  fir-topped  hills  on  the  other  side  of  the  Arm. 
The  spiked  tree  points  stood  out  against  the  clear 
blue  sky  like  the  jagged  edges  of  some  rude  fortifi- 
cations. Below  the  forest,  where  stood  fishermen's 
houses  and  the  summer  cottages  of  Halifax  citizens 
among  gray  fields,  a  shadow  had  fallen,  but  a  golden 
glow  yet  lingered  on  the  frozen  Arm  and  along  the 
eastern  shore  where  Pinewood  was  situated. 

Mrs.  Colonibel's  glance  wandered  aimlessly  to 
and  fro,  from  a  few  belated  crows  that  had  been  to 
the  seashore  to  look  for  fish,  and  with  hoarse  and 
contented  croaks  were  sailing  to  their  haunts  in  the 
old  pine  trees  at  the  head  of  the  Arm,  to  the  small 
boys  who  seemed  loth  to  leave  the  ice. 

"  Those  lads  have  it  all  to  themselves,"  she  said 
spiritlessly. 

'•  Yes,"  muttered  Valentine  ;  "  magnificent  ice 
too." 

"Val,"  suddenly,  "why  couldn't  we  have  a 
skating  party  this  evening  ?  I  know  Miss  Delavigne 
would  like  it,  for  she  won't  go  to  the  rink  now." 

His  eyes  glittered,  but  he  said  nothing. 

"There's  been  steady  frost  for  a  week,"  she  went 
on  earnestly ;  "it's  perfectly  safe,  and  the  evening 


H '  I 


"ill! 
li!  ' 


1 1  ' 


J I  Ik,  J 


374 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


bids  fair  to  be  lovely.  What  do  you  say  ?  is  there 
a  moon  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  We'll  have  a  bonfire  anyway,  and  tea  at  the 
cottage." 

"All  right,"  he  said. 

"  Then  come  to  the  telephone  with  me,  and  let 
us  decide  whom  to  ask.  There's  nothing  going  on, 
and  everybody  will  come." 

Mrs.  Colonibel  felt  better.  With  considerable 
energy,  after  a  sufficient  number  of  guests  had 
been  invited,  she,  seconded  by  Valentine,  who  be- 
gan to  show  some  interest  in  the  matter,  made 
arrangements  for  the  evening  and  then  went  to  the 
dining  room. 

An  unusual  air  of  animation  pervaded  the  table 
when  Armour  came  in  and  found  Valentine  carv- 
ing in  his  stead.  He  glanced  about  inquiringly 
while  his  brother  was  surrendering  his  seat. 

"We're  going  to  have  a  small  skating  party, 
Stanton,"  said  Judy.  **  There's  no  harm  in  that,  if 
it  is  Lent,  and  everybody  is  tired  of  the  rink.  Will 
you  come?  " 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  have  to  return  to  the 
office." 

Vivienne's  face  clouded  slightly,  and  his  glance 
rested  on  her  in  almost  idolatrous  affection.  "  You 
wish  to  go,  do  you  not  ?  "  he  said. 

"What   a   question!"    snapped    Judy.      "You 


THE    MICMAC    KEEP?    HIS    CHARGE 


375 


is  there 

L  at  the 

and  let 
)ing  on, 

derable 
sts  had 
^ho  be- 
',  made 
t  to  the 

e  table 
e  carv- 
liringly 

party, 
:hat,  if 
:.    Will 

to  the 

glance 
"You 


(( 


You 


know  she's  an  enthusiastic  skater,  and  you  sha'n't 
deprive  her  of  it,  Stanton.  Besides,  I'm  going  to 
venture  on  the  ice  this  evening.  You  know  I 
don't  skate  in  the  rink." 

"  Very  well,"  he  said  ;  "  Vivienne  shall  do  as  she 
chooses.  Perhaps  I  may  get  out  before  your  party 
breaks  up.  What  have  you  been  doing  this  after- 
noon, Judy? " 

Between  the  intervals  of  satisfying  the  demands 
of  a  wonderfully  good  appetite,  Judy  gave  him  a 
humorous  description  of  some  hours  spent  at  the 
Pavilion,  and  set  everybody  laughing  at  her  account 
of  the  mingled  ingenuousness  and  shrewdness  with 
which  Stargarde  dealt  with  some  of  her  trouble- 
some prottgh. 

Apparently  they  were  a  very  happy  family. 
Vivienne  and  Judy  were  as  lighthearted  as  two 
children ;  Armour's  coldness  and  sternness  were 
almost  lost  in  the  grave  happiness  that  had  seemed 
to  envelope  him  since  his  engagement  to  Vivienne  ; 
Mrs.  Colonibel's  private  worries  had  for  some  time 
kept  her  from  afflicting  the  household  with  out- 
bursts of  impatience  ;  and  Valentine  for  once  lost 
his  sullen  and  reserved  demeanor,  and  the  two 
angry  red  spots  that  had  so  frequently  showed 
themselves  in  his  cheeks  died  away. 

The  dinner  was  somewhat  hurried,  and  at  its 
close  the  different  members  of  the  family  scattered 
in  various  directions,  all  with  some  commission  from 


!li!I 


376 


THE    HOUSE   OF    ARMOUR 


im 


Wi 


Hi,!  i 


l!i 


m 


Mrs.  Colonibel  to  execute,  except  Armour,  who 
went  immediately  to  the  Hbrary  after  requesting 
that  the  Micmac  should  be  sent  up  to  him. 

With  a  noiseless,  catlike  tread  the  Indian,  a  few 
minutes  later,  knocked  at  the  library  door  and 
after  waiting  for  Mr.  Armour's  "Come  in,"  ad- 
vanced slowly  into  the  room,  and  stared  at  his  mas- 
ter with  lazy,  observant  eyes,  his  hands  hanging 
straight  by  his  sides. 

"You  are  prompt,  Joe,"  said  the  gentleman'; 
"you  were  not  off  to  your  wigwam?  " 

.  A  fiction  politely  kept  up  in  the  family  for  Joe's 
gratification  was  that  he  every  evening  crossed  the 
Arm  to  his  solitary  camp  in  the  woods,  when  as  a 
matter  of  fact  he,  on  cold  nights,  occupied  a  snug 
and  warm  retreat  at  the  cottage. 

"Too  early,"  said  he  sententiously.  "Go  later, 
when  moon  shinum." 

» 

"  Mrs.  Colonibel  is  going  to  have  a  skating  party 
to-night,"  said  Mr.  Armour. 

"Yes ;  me  busy,"  said  Joe. 

"Are  you  ;  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  I  sent  for  you 
to  ask  that  you  give  some  assistance  in  preparing 
for  it." 

"  Mr.  Valentine  askum,"  said  Joe.  Then  he  added 
with  a  gurgle  in  his  throat  resembling  a  laugh, 
"  He  likeum  bear  in  trap  now." 

Armour's  face  darkened,  then  as  quickly  light- 
ened again  at  a  deliberate  proceeding  on  the  part 


'.i^P^Hw.-, 


m 


THE    MICMAC    KEEPS    HIS    CHARGE 


377 


ir,  who 
[uesting 

1,  a  few 
lor  and 
n,"  ad- 
lis  mas- 
ianging 

tleman ; 

)r  Joe's 

sed  the 

en  as  a 

a  snug 

o  later, 

g  party 


or  you 
sparing 

added 
laugh, 

light- 
e  part 


of  the  Indian,  whose  eyes  during  a  slow  voyage  of 
discovery  about  the  room  revealed  to  him  a  photo- 
graph of  Vivienne  on  the  mantelpiece  at  the  sight 
of  which  he  crossed  himself  devoutly. 

"Why  do  you  do  that,  Joe? " 

"She  likum  Wirgin  Mary."  , 

"I'm  afraid  your  ideas  of  religion  are  rather 
mixed,  Joe." 

"  She  likum  Wirgin,"  repeated  the  man. 

"Do  you  really  think  so? "  said  Armour  softly. 

"  Um,"  and  the  Indian  grunted  half-contemptu- 
ously.  "  Me  likum  Wirgin  girl  when  you  cold  like 
fish.  Joe  watch  her  always.  She  say,  'Joe,  in  wig- 
wam you  freezum  ;  you  go  some  warm  place  ;  me 
pay.'  Joe  say  no,  then  Wirgin  girl  makeum  this," 
and  throwing  open  his  coat  he  displayed  a  bright 
vest  of  fine  red  cloth  embroidered  with  gold,  by  the 
presentation  of  which  Vivienne  had  won  his  heart 
forever,  for  she  had  gratified  his  savage  fondness  for 
gay  colors,  a  fondness  strictly  repressed  in  his  de- 
pendence on  Colonel  Armour  for  cast-off  garments 
of  sober,  gentlemanly  hues. 

Armour's  face  flushed  in  deep  gratification.  He 
was  also  much  interested  in  the  curious  fact  that 
the  Indian  should  display  ten  times  more  attach- 
ment to  Vivienne,  whom  he  had  only  known  for  a 
few  months,  than  he  ever  had  to  Stargarde,  who 
had  been  a  devoted  friend  to  him  for  years.  Prob- 
ably Stargarde,  with  her  leveling  doctrine  of  the 


■:  \J''l 


I 


{,'f ,. 


378 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


brotherhood  of  all  men,  did  not  appeal  to  his  semi- 
civilized  nature  as  did  Vivienne,  with  her  aristocratic 
habit  of  treating  dependents  kindly,  and  yet  rather 
as  if  they  belonged  to  a  different  order  of  beings 
from  herself 

"  You  marryum  soon  ?  "  said  Joe,  who,  in  spite 
of  his  press  of  work,  was  in  an  unusually  loqua- 
cious mood. 

"  Not  for  a  good  while,  Joe — four  whole  months." 

A  sound  of  guttural  disapproval  issued  from 
Joe's  throat.  Then  with  a  sardonic  smile  he  in- 
wardly reflected  :  "  Cunnel  wishum  Miss  Debbiline 
marry  Mr.  Val ;  Joe's  heart  say,  '  No,  Cunnel,  Miss 
Debbiline  likeum  Mr.  Stanton.'  Joe  guessum  Mr. 
Stanton  know." 

Mr.  Stanton  did  know.  There  was  a  look  of 
white,  suppressed  rage  on  his  face.  Strange  to  say 
his  thoughts  had  gone  in  the  same  direction  as 
Joe's.  He  was  at  that  moment  reflecting  for  the 
thousandth  time  on  the  bitterness  of  the  unnatural 
struggle  that  he  had  carried  on  with  an  unnatural 
parent  for  so  many  years. 

"  You  not  feelum  bad,"  said  Joe  consolingly,  as 
he  observed  his  emotion.  "  Me  watchum  like  dog, 
always." 

Armour  instantly  recovered  himself  and  turned 
his  despairing  eyes  from  the  photograph.  "That 
is  all,  Joe.     You  may  go  now." 

The  Micmac  buttoned  his  coat  over  the  sacred 


THE   MICMAC    KEEPS    HIS   CHARGE 


379 


his  semi- 
istocratic 
et  rather 
)f  beings 

,  in  spite 
y  loqua- 

nonths." 
ed  from 
e  he  in- 
)ebbiline 
tiel,  Miss 
sum  Mr. 

look  of 
je  to  say 
action  as 
f  for  the 
mnatural 
mnatural 

ingly,  as 
hke  dog, 

d  turned 
"That 

e  sacred 


scarlet  vest  "You  never  loseum,  Mr.  Stanton. 
Me  watchum.  Mr.  Val  get  out  of  trap — sore  paw 
heal — he  snarl,  but  not  much  hurt.  Ging,"  and 
with  this  invariable  parting  salutation,  he  glided 
from  the  room. 

With  a  face  as  devoid  of  expression  as  one  of 
the  blocks  of  wood  that  he  was  cutting,  Joe  laid 
the  foundation  of  a  substantial  bonfire  on  a  gravel 
walk  close  to  the  frozen  shore  of  the  Arm.  A 
number  of  garden  seats  he  placed  near  by,  and  a 
few  small  tables.  Then  walking  along  the  path,  he 
surveyed  the  jagged  cakes  of  ice  shouldering  each 
other  up  the  bank,  and  selecting  the  clearest  place, 
chopped  a  cutting  to  lay  a  plank  walk  to  the 
smooth  ice.  This  done,  he  examined  the  sky 
where  a  pale  and  sickly  moon  was  reluctantly 
climbing  above  the  trees,  a  hazy  cloud  hanging  on 
her  skirt. 

"  No  wind — crows  much  chatter  this  sundown — 
big  snow  *fore  morning,"  muttered  Joe ;  then  he 
sauntered  to  the  cottage  to  see  that  the  fires  were 
burning  brightly  and  watched  the  house-servants 
who  were  bringing  down  china  and  eatables  in  cov- 
ered baskets,  and  large  kettles  for  heating  tea, 
coffee,  and  soup. 

An  hour  later  the  snapping,  crackling  bonfire 
sent  up  a  cheerful  blaze  that  brightly  illumined  the 
frozen  declivity,  the  walls  of  the  little  cottage 
against   the  evergreens,   and  the  sheet  of  bluish- 


■■ 


M 


380 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


white  ice  spreading  itself  out  under  the  pale  rays 
of  the  moon.  Groups  of  guests  came  hurrying 
down  in  detachments  from  the  house,  'liaghing  and 
exclaiming  at  the  pleasures  of  an  impromptu  skat- 
ing party,  and  Joe,  standing  a  little  aside,  watched 
them.  To  his  Indian  mind,  the  obsequious  manner 
in  which  the  gentlemen  of  a  party  always  served 
and  ministered  in  every  possible  way  to  their 
"squaws,"  was  the  most  remarkable  thing  in  the 
social  intercourse  of  white  people. 

"  Makeum  no  good,"  he  soliloquized,  surveying 
a  little  lady's  delicate  foot  extended  for  a  skate 
that  Valentine  was  putting  on  with  an  empressement 
as  great  as  if  kneeling  at  her  feet  were  the  most 
supreme  happiness  that  could  be  bestowed  upon 
him. 

Though  talking  and  laughing  with  the  little  lady, 
Valentine  kept  one  eye  on  the  path  to  the  house, 
and  Joe  knew  that  he  was  watching  for  Vivienne, 
who  had  not  yet  appeared.  Presently  she  came 
lightly  over  the  gravel,  Judy  hanging  on  her  arm. 

Valentine  had  just  finish -^d  his  task  and  spring- 
ing up  was  about  to  offer  his  services  to  Vivienne, 
when  Joe  strolled  out  from  the  trees. 

"Me  putt-um  skates  on.  Miss  Debbiline?"  he 
said  inquiringly. 

"  Yes,  Joe,  "  and  she  seated  herself  a  little  apart 
from  the  others. 

"  Here,  Val,"  said  Judy  mischievously,  taking  the 


THE   MICMAC    KEEPS    HIS   CHARGE 


381 


pale  rays 
hurrying 
hing  and 
ptu  skat- 
watched 
J  manner 
^s  served 
to  their 
ig  in  the 

urveying 
a  skate 
^essement 
the  most 
ed  upon 

ttle  lady, 
le  house, 
/ivienne, 
he  came 
er  arm. 
I  spring- 
/^ivienne, 

le?"  he 

tie  apart 

king  the 


seat  that  had  just  been  vacated.  "  I'm  very  fidgety 
about  my  boots.  If  you  don't  get  them  on  right 
you'll  have  to  unlace  them  again." 

Joe  had  never  done  such  a  thing  before  as  to 
put  on  a  lady's  boots,  and  it  was  a  great  honor  for 
Vivienne  that  he  should  offer  to  do  so.  If  it  had 
been  the  simple  clasping  of  a  pair  of  spring  skates 
his  task  would  have  been  more  simple,  but  Vivi- 
enne, in  common  with  many  Canadian  skaters,  wore 
steel  blades  that  were  screwed  to  the  soles  of  a  pair 
of  boots. 

Joe  took  off  the  little  slippers  in  which  she  had 
run  down  from  th?  house,  (.iefuliy  fitted  her  boots, 
light  and  left,  then  proceeded  to  grapple  with  the 
long  laces  which  he  reflected  would  be  sufficient  to 
fasten  on  two  pairs  of  moccasins.  Carefully  he 
drew  the  black  strings  in  and  out  till  his  task  was 
done,  when  he  drew  his  hand  over  the  smooth  firm 
leather  that  fitted  over  the  ankles  so  neatly,  and 
had  some  kind  of  a  conceit  pass  through  his  mind 
similar  to  that  of  the  classic  Mercury  with  winged 
heels. 

Vivienne  rose,  thanked  him,  and  walked  over  the 
planks  down  to  the  edge  of  the  ice  where  Judy 
was  waiting  for  her. 

*' Joe,  Joe,"  exclaimed  the  latter  looking  back  at 
him,  "bring  some  chairs  out  on  the  ice  and  get 
that  one  with  runners.  Mrs.  Macartney  will  be 
here  later  on." 


I '  \\ 


i 


i  p 

m 


I) 


m  ■ 


^^'i  I 


lifi 


382 


THE   HOUSE  OF   ARMOUR 


**  La  vot/a,"  said  Vivienne,  as  a  loud,  jovial  voice 
was  heard  in  the  distance,  and  presently  Captain 
Macartney  and  Patrick  were  lifting  their  caps  to 
the  two  girls,  while  Mrs.  Macartney  roamed  to  and 
fro,  looking  apprehensively  at  the  heaped-up  ice 
floes,  and  the  plank  walk  to  which  she  was  by  no 
means  inclined  to  trust  herself. 

**It's  like  the  man  that  ran  away  with  Lord 
Ullin's  daughter,"  she  vociferated  in  her  jolly  way. 
"  He  couldn't  get  across — that  is,  the  father  couldn't 
— and  he  said,  *  My  daughter,  oh,  my  daughter.'  " 

Vivienne  came  swiftly  back,  and  seized  both  her 
hands.  "  Dear  Mrs.  Macartney,  I  am  so  glad  to 
see  you." 

"And  sorry  that  we  came,"  said  Patrick,  pre- 
tending to  cry.      "Come  away,  Geoffrey." 

"  Naughty  boy,"  and  Vivienne  shook  her  head 
at  him,  then  with  Captain  Macartney  and  Judy 
busied  herself  in  getting  Mrs.  Macartney  out  on 
the  ice  and  into  the  chair  with  runners,  on  which 
the  lady  sat  for  the  remainder  of  the  evening,  being 
pushed  hither  and  thither  by  any  man  who  felt  the 
spirit  moving  him  to  do  so. 

Camperdown  arriving  half  an  hour  later,  stood 
high  up  on  the  bank  struck  by  the  strange  beauty 
of  the  scene.  The  moon,  as  if  still  uncertain  of 
herself,  shone  with  rays  more  pale  and  more  tremu- 
lous, and  shed  a  weird  and  peculiar  light  over  the 
dark  hills  and  the  white  breast  of  the  Arm.     There 


THE    MICMAC    KEEPS    HIS    CHARGE 


383 


'ial  voice 
'  Captain 
caps  to 
d  to  and 
d-up  ice 
as  by  no 

ith  Lord 
)lly  way. 
couldn't 
ighter.'  " 
both  her 
glad  to 

ick,  pre- 

ler  head 
nd  Judy 
'^  out  on 
)n  which 
ig,  being 
)  felt  the 

^r,  stood 
;  beauty 
rtain  of 
e  tremu- 
over  the 
There 


was  a  strange  hush  in  the  air,  and  not  a  breath  of 
wind,  and  it  was  hardly  freezing.  Assuredly  a 
storm  was  brev/ing  and  a  thaw  coming  on. 

Immediately  below  him  the  bonfires  and  torches 
stuck  in  the  ground  threw  a  broad,  bold  glare  of 
light  for  some  distance  out  on  the  ice,  and  the 
skaters  for  the  most  part  were  keeping  pretty  well 
in  the  bright  space,  and  away  from  the  semi-dark- 
ness of  the  regions  beyond,  where  a  few  adventur- 
ous boys  were  madly  careering.  Their  frolicsome 
shouts  and  exclamations  Camperdown  could  hear 
but  confusedly  in  the  velvety  softness  of  the  air,  but 
beneath  him  he  could  distinctly  distinguish  Patrick 
Macartney's  voice. 

**  Dr.  Camperdown,  my  mother  begs  to  inquire 
whether  she  has  your  gracious  permission  to  par- 
take of  a  cup  of  tea." 

"Three-quarters  only,  a  whole  cup  later  on," 
said  Camperdown,  who,  by  means  of  rigid  dieting 
had  so  reduced  the  weight  of  his  patient  that  she 
had  made  a  vow  never  to  leave  Nova  Scotia. 

"Camperdown,  Camperdown,"  called  some  one 
who  espied  him  on  the  bank,  "  make  haste ;  we  want 
one  for  a  set  of  sixteen  lancers." 

Thus  appealed  to,  he  quickly  put  on  his  skates, 
passing  on  his  way  to  the  place  where  he  was  in 
demand,  a  little  group  consisting  of  Judy,  Patrick, 
and  Vivienne,  who  was  giving  them  instructions  in 
the  art  of  skating. 


ti' 


.-!       i 


!i 


■'■;:'■ 

II!  ■     . 


384 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


Valentine  skated  swiftly  up  to  them  as  he  went 
by.  "You  are  victimizing  yourself,"  he  heard  him 
say  in  a  low  voice  to  Vivienne.  "  Come  with  me 
for  a  spin." 

He  saw  the  girl  hesitate,  but  Valentine  laughed, 
peremptorily  seized  her  hand,  and  away  they  went 
toward  the  mouth  of  the  Arm  like  two  birds  that 
had  taken  wing. 

Vivienne  was  not  pleased.  Valentine's  action 
had  been  abrupt,  almost  rude,  and  it  annoyed  her 
to  be  treated  with  so  much  unceremoniousness. 
And  yet  in  her  heart  there  was  such  a  profound 
and  sorrowful  compassion  for  the  young  man  whose 
unhappy  state  of  mind  she  realized  only  too  fully, 
that  it  kept  her  from  any  outward  display  of  resent- 
ment 

He  was  laughing  and  talking  somewhat  wildly, 
and  there  was  a  reckless  gleam  in  his  eye  that  made 
her  avoid  meeting  his  glance. 

They  were  both  excellent  skaters,  swift  and 
graceful  of  foot ;  and  for  a  few  minutes  Vivienne 
had  a  kind  of  painful  enjoyment  in  the  rapid  rush- 
ing through  the  air,  but  at  last  she  said  gently  : 
"  Had  we  not  better  return  ?  " 

"  Not  yet ! "  he  exclaimed,  and  his  grasp  of  her 
fingers  tightened. 

The  girl  had  one  of  her  quick,  unerring  intui- 
tions. Valentine  had  fallen  into  one  of  his  rash 
humors,  in  which  he  was  a  slave  to  the  impulse  of 


THE   MICMAC    KEEPS    HIS   CHARGE 


385 


the  moment.  Without  sufficient  hardihood  to  plan 
a  deUberate  misdeed,  scarcely  a  day  passed  without 
his  falling  heedlessly  into  one. 

The  eastern  bank  of  the  Arm  that  they  were  close 
to  seemed  to  be  rushing  by  them  like  the  dim  and 
hazy  outline  of  some  huge  beast  tearing  along  in 
the  opposite  direction  from  that  in  which  they  were 
going.  The  light  and  noise  of  the  skating  party 
were  far  behind  them.  Away  in  front  was  the 
smooth,  black  ice,  dark  and  treacherous,  that  they 
would  soon  be  on.  Then  beyond  the  ice,  where 
it  grew  thinner  and  thinner,  was  the  icy,  open  water. 

"Valentine,"  she  said  calmly,  "what  are  you 
doing  ?  "  and  she  again  strove  to  draw  her  hand 
from  his. 

He  laughed  wildly,  made  a  sudden  turn,  and  was 
skating  backward,  his  desperate  eyes  looking  into 
hers,  his  left  hand  outstretched  to  seize  her  right. 
He  would  make  sure  of  her  other  hand  in  order 
that  she  might  not  escape  him. 

She  saw  the  mocking,  reckless  devil  looking  out 
of  his  eyes,  and  the  hot,  French  blood  rose  in  her 
veins.  She  held  back  her  hand  from  him  ;  dang- 
ling from  it  was  a  stout  leather  strap  by  which  she 
had  been  pulling  Judy  about.  At  the  end  of  the 
strap  was  a  buckle. 

"  Coward  ! "  she  exclaimed  in  bitter  contempt, 

and  swinging  the  strap  in  her  hand,  she  struck  him 

on  the  forehead. 

z 


386 


THE    HOUSE   OF    ARMOUR 


!"i. 


1(1 


The  sudden  shock,  the  sting  of  the  metal,  and 
the  blood  that  trickled  down  his  face  confused  him. 
He  threw  both  hands  to  his  head,  staggered,  and 
fell  backward.  Vivienne  stood  looking  at  him,  and 
as  he  groped  blindly  for  his  pocket,  skated  to  him 
and  dropped  a  handkerchief  between  his  fingers. 

With  a  low  cry  of  rage  like  that  of  a  wounded 
beast,  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  stretched  out  his  hands, 
felt  himself  pulled  from  behind,  and  again  fell  to 
the  ice. 

He  was  a  sorry  spectacle  as  he  lay  raving  and 
swearing  there.  "  You  better  go,  Miss  Debbiline," 
said  Joe,  who  in  a  pair  of  long  racing  skates  had 
appeared  just  as  he  was  needed.  "  I  takeum  care 
him." 

Vivienne  turned  and  went  slowly  up  the  Arm. 
"  Where  is  my  strap  ?  "  asked  Judy  when  she  re- 
joined her.  '*I  want  you  to  drag  me  about  a  little 
more,  if  you  are  not  tired." 

"  I  threw  it  away,"  said  Vivienne.  *'  Here  is  my 
necktie,"  and  she  drew  a  voluminous  tie  from  the 
bosom  of  her  short  skating  jacket. 

"Why,  it  is  dripping  wet,"  exclaimed  Judy. 

*'  I  am  very  warm,"  said  Vivienne  with  a  faint 
smile.     "Give  it  to  me,  Judy." 

"  But,  Vivienne,  it  looks  as  if  you  had  been  in 
the  water." 

"I  assure  you  I  have  not  Give  me  the  tie. 
Now  take  my  hand." 


THE   MICMAC    KEEPS    HIS    CHARGE 


387 


il,  and 
d  him. 
d,  and 
m,  and 
to  him 
gers. 
)unded 
hands, 
fell  to 

ig  and 
biiine," 
:es  had 
m  care 

Arm. 
she  re- 
a  little 


IS  my 
om  the 


a  faint 


been  m 
the  tie. 


At  ten  o'clock,  when  servants  were  running  to 
and  fro  from  the  cottage  to  the  ice,  and  the  skating 
party  was  refreshing  itself  with  various  meats  and 
drinks,  an  acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Colonibel  sud- 
denly lifted  up  her  voice  : 

"There  comes  Mr.  Armour,  running  down  the 
bank  like  a  boy." 

He  was  in  great  good  humor,  and  saluted  her 
with  the  utmost  cheerfulness.  "  Yes,  Mrs.  Fairlee, 
I  did  think  I  was  going  to  miss  this ;  and  I  haven't 
been  on  the  ice  this  winter.  Will  you  have  a  turn 
with  me?"  and  standing  beside  her,  first  on  one  leg 
and  then  on  the  other,  he  fastened  his  skates  to  the 
heavy  soles  of  his  boots  with  two  decisive  clicks. 

"  No,  I  won't  skate  with  you,"  she  said,  rolling 
her  eyes  at  him  over  her  coffee  cup.  **I  don't 
believe  there's  a  woman  here  cruel  enough  to  do 
such  a  thing — is  there,  ladies?"  and  she  took  in  the 
party  with  a  mischievous,  inclusive  glance. 

"  No,  no — no  cruelty  here — don't  know  what  it 
is,  but  we  won't  persecute  Mr.  Armour,"  and  sim- 
ilar laughing  ejaculations  were  heard. 

"  I  want  to  see  Major  Heathcote  on  a  matter  of 
the  last  importance,"  she  continued  loudly;  "does 
any  one  know  where  he  is,  and  will  you,  Mr.  Armour, 
find  him  for  me?" 

"I  will,"  he  replied,  simultaneously  with  a  voice 
announcing  that  Major  Heathcote  was  explaining 
something  to  Miss  Delavigne. 


m 

m 


I'i 


il'f! 


388 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"Ocular  demonstration,  probably,"  said  Mrs. 
Fairlee.  "  Off  you  go  to  find  them,  Mr.  Armour ; 
here's  a  currant  bun  for  refreshment,"  slipping  it 
from  her  saucer  to  his  pocket. 

He  smiled  at  her — ^she  never  could  tease  him — 
and  turning  his  face  toward  the  north  he  skated 
from  her  with  long,  powerful  strides.  Not  twenty 
paces  distant  he  met  the  two  people  whom  he  was 
in  search  of. 

"No,  we  have  not  been  to  Melville  Island,"  said 
Major  Heathcote,  stopping  short.  "Would  you 
have  cared  to  go,  Miss  Delavigne  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  think  of  it,  thank  you." 

"  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  skate  in  that  direc- 
tion with  Mr.  Armour  ?  " 

Miss  Delavigne  did  care  to  do  so,  after  a  delib- 
erate survey  of  Mr.  Armour's  face,  and  Major 
Heathcote  went  smilingly  in  search  of  his  wife  and 
refreshments. 

Through  the  faltering  moonlight  they  skated, 
rapidly  skirting  the  dusky  shore  where  one  com- 
fortable residence  succeeded  another ;  all  standing 
in  grounds  trending  down  to  the  inlet  of  the  sea. 

Keeping  close  to  the  trees,  they  struck  across  to 
the  opposite  side,  where  on  tiny  Melville  Island  is 
perched  the  house  of  the  keeper  of  the  prison, 
dominating  the  prison  itself,  a  long,  low  red  build- 
ing situated  close  to  the  Arm  on  the  shores  of  a 
tiny  cove. 


THE   MICMAC    KEEPS    HIS   CHARGE 


389 


Mrs. 
mour ; 
Ding  it 

him — 
skated 
twenty 
he  was 

i,"  said 
Id  you 


C  direc- 

delib- 

Major 

ife  and 

skated, 
e  com- 
tanding 

sea. 
cross  to 
sland  is 

prison, 
i  build- 
res  of  a 


This  cove  Ar^iour  skated  slowly  around,  holding 
Vivienne  by  the  hand  and  confiding  to  her  remi- 
niscences of  boyish  days  hoarded  for  many  years  in 
his  own  breast.  She  listened  with  great  attentive- 
ness,  understanding  well,  in  the  quiet  intensity  of 
her  love  for  him,  what  a  relief  it  was  for  his  over- 
burdened mind  to  have  at  last  found  one  being  in 
the  world  to  whom  its  secrets  could  be  partly  con- 
fided. That  she  did  not  have  his  whole  confi- 
dence she  knew  well,  but  she  was  willing  to  bide 
her  time. 

At  last  he  stopped,  and  looked  searchingly  at 
her.  "  Tu  as  les  yeux  fatigues^'  he  murmured  in 
the  French  that  it  was  such  a  pleasure  to  her  to 
hear  him  speak,  and  he  guided  her  to  a  fallen  tree 
that  lay  near  the  old  prison.  They  sat  down  on  it 
and  he  again  scanned  her  face. 

"  You  are  quiet  and  pale,"  he  said  uneasily. 
"  Is  there  anything  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"Not  now,"  she  said  softly.  **What  is  this 
round  thing  that  you  have  in  your  pocket?  Ah,  a 
bun,"  and  taking  it  out  she  began  to  eat  it,  offer- 
ing him  an  occasional  currant. 

Armour  sat  beside  her  laughing  and  talking  hap- 
pily, and  at  intervals  lapsing  into  the  serious  by  a 
discussion  of  the  history  of  the  prison,  among 
whose  captives  had  been  some  American  officers 
taken  in  the  war  of  1 8 1 2. 

Vivienne  listened  silently  but  appreciatively  to 


IS: 


390 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


him  till  a  low  sob  of  wind  and  a  few  flying  snow- 
flakes  warned  her  that  they  must  hasten  home. 

Armour's  high  spirits  suddenly  left  him.  "  Vivi- 
enne,  I  hate  to  return  to  that  house,"  he  said.  "  I 
wish  I  could  take  you  and  turn  my  back  on  it  for- 
ever. Would  you  be  willing  to  leave  Nova  Scotia? 
Would  you  like  to  live  in  France?"  and  he  put  his 
arm  around  her  as  he  skated  slowly  beside  her. 

"  For  what  reason,  Stanton  ?  " 

"I  am  sick  to  death  of  Halifax,  and  do  you 
know,  darling,  that  I  have,  without  consulting  you, 
found  out  that  the  old  Lacy  d'Entreville  chateau  is 
for  sale  ?  Will  you  go  and  live  there  with  me  by 
that  French  river  that  you  love  so  much?  " 

Vivienne  stopped  skating,  and  looked  up  in  sur- 
prise at  him.  They  were  in  the  midst  of  a  deathly 
solitude.  Not  a  creature  was  near,  not  a  sound 
was  heard,  now  that  the  swift  striking  of  their  skates 
against  the  ice  had  ceased. 

*' Stanton,"  she  said  dreamily,  "I  told  you  about 
Orleans,  then  later  on  of  the  other  place  still  dearer 
to  me  for  my  mother's  sake,  of  the  strange  mass 
of  buildings  heaped  up  beside  the  Loire,  and  the 
little  village  crouching  below.  Perhaps  I  said  too 
much  of  my  pleasure  when  I  beheld  those  walls, 
and  saw  the  tapestried  chambers  of  my  ancestors, 
and  the  great  tower  with  its  sloping  ascent,  where 
a  carriage  and  pair  could  start  from  the  town  and 
drive  up  into  the  chateau " 


THE    MICMAC    KEEPS   HIS   CHARGE 


391 


you 


"Vivienne,"  gently,  "it  was  not  any  grandeur  in 
your  picture  that  touched  me.  It  was  the  homeH- 
ness  of  it ;  the  comfort  of  Madame  la  Princess' 
apartments,  the  loneliness  of  the  servants,  the  care 
they  were  giving  even  to  the  dogs  of  their  absent 
mistress,  the  interest  of  the  villagers  in  you " 

"  Yes,"  said  Vivienne,  "when  we  went  into  the 
lodge  of  the  conciergCy  the  dogs  of  the  princess 
occupied  all  the  comfortable  chairs  in  the  room, 
and  the  old  man  and  woman  sat  on  the  stone  win- 
dow ledge.  Ah,  those  white  hounds  !  They, were 
charming,  Stanton,  and  they  licked  my  hands." 

"The  princess  will  sell  the  chateau,  reasonably 
too,"  said  Armour  kissing  Vivienne's  abstracted 
face.  "You  will  go,  sweetheart?  We  can  live  in 
Paris  for  half  the  year." 

"  Stanton,"  said  the  girl  with  startling  emphasis, 
**  did  I  tell  you  that  it  was  like  home  to  me  ?  " 

"No,  my  child,  but  I  guessed  that  it  might 
easily  become  so." 

"  Never,  never !  France  is  beautiful,  but  this  i? 
my  home,"  gazing  about  her.  "This  Canada,  that 
France  so  basely  deserted.  The  English  con- 
quered U3,  protected  us,  and  now  the  British  flag  is 
mine.  We  are  Canadians,  Stanton,  you  and  I ; 
do  not  talk  of  France,  and  yet — and  yet,"  losing 
her  enthusiasm  and  speaking  with  a  sweet  and 
feminine  softness,  "if  it  is  for  your  good  I  will  go 
to  a  desert  with  you." 


!{> 


if 


392 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


a  '■' 


>P' 


He  opened  his  mouth  to  reply  to  her,  but  she 
laid  a  finger  across  his  lips.  "Stanton,"  eagerly, 
"  are  you  sure  you  would  be  happy  to  leave  here  ? 
You  have  great  cares,  great  worries ;  but  reflect 
— ^you  are  no  longer  a  boy.  6an  you  tear  your- 
self from  your  native  land,  and  become  happy  in 
another  where  you  know  no  one?  I  think  per- 
haps you  might  even  long  for  some  of  the  old 
anxieties.  Are  you  sure  that  you  would  not  re- 
gret the  change?" 

"  I  am  sure  of  nothing  except  that  I  love  you," 
he  said  passionately  ;  "  and  I  will  not  do  anything 
that  you  do  not  approve  of." 

"  Then  you  will  at  once  cease  embracing  me," 
she  said,  and  darted  away  from  him. 

He  soon  caught  up  to  her,  and  folding  her  fin- 
gers securely  within  his,  went  flying  before  the  north 
wind  over  the  ice  and  arrived  at  the  Pinewood 
bank  to  find  the  skating  party  a  dream.  Every 
trace  of  it  had  vanished — even  the  smoking  embers 
of  the  bonfire  had  been  carried  away.  On  com- 
ing nearer  they  found  one  solitary  seat  that  had 
been  left,  and  on  it  Vivienne's  slippers  laid  con- 
spicuously by  her  cloak. 

"  Stanton,  I  wish  to  do  something  for  Joe,"  she 
said. 

"Well,  darling,  what  shall  it  be?  " 

"  Will  you  always  keep  him,  Stanton  ?  He  is  a 
watchful  servant." 


THE   MICMAC    KEEPS    HIS    CHARGE 


393 


M 


>> 


she 


IS  a 


*'  We  will  keep  him,"  with  gentle  emphasis. 
"And  now  do  you  think  you  can  do  without  an 
escort  up  the  bank?  I  wish  to  see  Joe  about 
something  at  the  cottage  before  he  curls  up  for  the 
night." 

•*  It  looks  dark  up  there,"  said  Vivienne  wist- 
fully. 

"Oh,  sweet  story-teller!"  said  Mr.  Armour 
with  a  low,  happy  laugh.  "You  fear  nothing  on 
earth,  and  you  cannot  play  Desdemona,  so  do  not 
try.  You  don't  wish  me  to  see  Joe,"  and  catching 
her  up  in  his  arms  he  hurried  up  the  gentle  ac- 
clivity, bending  his  face  teasingly  down  to  hers. 

"  If  I  ask  you  what  Joe  has  been  doing  and  why 
you  are  so  subdued  this  evening,  shall  I  hear  an- 
other pretty  prevarication  ?  "  he  inquired,  putting 
her  down  at  the  veranda  steps. 

"  No,"  she  said  gravely,  and  as  he  stood  beside 
her  in  the  now  rapidly  falling  snow,  she  mentally 
ran  over  her  painful  experience  of  the  evening. 
Should  she  shock  Armour  with  an  account  of  the 
treachery  of  his  wayward  brother?  No,  a  thou- 
sand times  no. 

"  I  am  disturbed  about  something,"  she  said  at 
last  deliberately,  "but  I  do  not  care  to  talk  about 
it" 

"Will  you  tell  me  to-morrow?"  he  asked 
eagerly. 

"No,  nor  the  next  day,  nor  any  day,"  she  re- 


^ 


^ 

'V.   sf 

I'' 


394 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


plied.  "  I  beg  that  you  will  not  make  a  mystery 
of  it.  Some  one  has  ofifended  me — and  been  for- 
given. After  to-night  I  shall  put  the  matter  out 
of  my  thoughts." 

Armour's  face  grew  dark  as  he  listened  to  her. 
"Perhaps  it  is  as  well  not  to  tell  me,"  he  muttered  : 
"  I  should  not  forgive  so  easily." 


I ,' 


CHAPTER  XXX 


LOVE  WILL   BUILD    HIS    LILY   WALLS 


LATE  in  the  afternoon  of  St.  Patrick's  Day, 
Camperdown,  in  a  smart  new  buggy  that  he 
had  bought  to  please  Zilla,  but  with  Polypharmacy 
— whom  he  had  refused  to  give  up — harnessed  to 
it,  was  driving  along  Barrington  Street,  that  runs  in 
a  wavering  line  through  the  town  and  out  into  the 
country. 

Since  early  morning  there  had  been  several 
kinds  of  weather — as  is  usually  the  case  in  Halifax 
on  the  seventeenth  of  March.  The  parade  and 
demonstration  in  honor  of  the  saint  had  been  held 
in  a  driving  snow-storm.  Then  followed  brilliant 
sunshine  and  a  high  wind  that  rattled  the  miasses 
of  wires  suspended  over  the  streets,  and  tossed'  to 
and  fro  the  banks  of  dead  white  snow  heaped 
in  billowy  ridges  against  the  black  and  muddy 
earth. 

When  Camperdown  set  out,  another  change  had 
taken  place.  The  wind  had  died  away,  and  reluc- 
tant snowflakes  were  beginning  to  fall  from  dark, 
smoke-colored  clouds  that  were  slowly  rolling  in 
over  the  harbor. 

395 


11 


'i 


i  i| 


396 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


The  walking  was  slushy  and  disagreeable.  Pedes- 
trians in  rubber  footgear  passed  along  the  side- 
walks, looking  in  the  shop  windows,  where  pots  of 
pseudo  shamrock  were  freely  displayed,  or  enter- 
ing stores  and  offices  to  transact  business  in  the 
leisurely,  unhurried  fashion  peculiar  to  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  city  by  the  sea.  Every  Irishman  wore 
a  large  tuft  of  green  in  his  hat  or  his  buttonhole, 
and  many  horses  showed  the  nationality  of  their 
masters  by  proudly  shaking  their  heads,  whereon 
was  the  emerald  rosette. 

A  crowd  of  boys  on  a  street  corner,  rapturously 
engaged  in  watching  one  of  their  number,  who  was 
rubbing  green  powder  on  the  back  of  the  uncon- 
scious Mrs.  Macartney,  as  she  stood  waiting  for  a 
horse  car,  attracted  Dr.  Camperdown's  attention. 

"You  rascals!"  he  called  to  them,  and  sup- 
pressing a  smile  as  they  scampered  away,  he  took 
off  his  hat  to  the  lady  and  drove  on.  Past  the 
City  Hall  he  went,  and  steep  Jacob  Street,  once 
the  terminus  of  the  ancient  palisade  wall  that  en- 
closed the  early  settlement  of  Halifax,  and  beyond 
which  it  was  not  safe  for  a  white  man  to  go  unless 
he  were  willing  to  be  scalped  by  the  ever-watchful 
Indians,  and  entered  into  the  dingy  part  of  the 
street,  where  traffic  to  and  from  the  railroad  station 
is  loudest  and  noisiest. 

Below  him  was  the  dockyard  with  its  arsenals, 
magazines,  parade  ground,  and  houses  for  officials, 


LOVE   WILL   BUILD    HIS   LILY   WALLS 


397 


Pedes- 
2  side- 
Dots  of 
enter- 
in  the 
inhabi- 
n  wore 
onhole, 
)f  their 
^hereon 

urously 
^ho  was 
uncon- 
g  for  a 
ition. 
id  sup- 
le  took 
ast  the 
t,  once 
hat  en- 
beyond 

unless 
watchful 

of  the 
station 

rsenals, 
fficials, 


and  its  few  remaining  trophies  of  the  war  of  1 8 1 2. 
He  looked  grimly  toward  it ;  called  up  some  of 
his  father's  stories  of  the  day  so  many  years  ago, 
that  the  lads  of  the  town  ran  to  see  the  "  Shannon  " 
and  the  "  Chesapeake  "  coming  up  the  harbor  with 
their  decks  stained  with  blood  ;  and  then  smiled  as 
he  reflected  on  the  ardent  diatribes  against  war  that 
he  had  heard  from  Stargarde  and  Vivienne. 

Polypharmacy  deliberately  drew  his  hoofs  in  and 
out  of  the  snow  and  mud  in  the  street,  and  soon 
had  his  master  to  the  suburb  of  Richmond  and  the 
contraction  of  the  harbor,  where  the  lovely,  sud- 
den, and  beautiful  view  of  the  basin  burst  upon 
him. 

Calm  and  quiet,  surrounded  by  bold  hills  and 
dusky  forests,  it  lay.  Drawn  half-way  across  it,  as 
if  giant  hands  had  begun  to  stretch  it  there,  and 
then  had  ceased,  growing  weary  of  their  task,  was 
a  covering  of  white  ice ;  where  the  ice  ended 
abruptly  the  water  was  dark  and  tranquil.  Five 
miles  from  him,  at  the  head  of  the  basin,  nestled 
the  little  village  of  Bedford  ;  and  on  the  west  shore 
his  eyes  sought  and  rested  on  lonely  Prince's  Lodge, 
a  melancholy  souvenir,  with  its  ruined  gardens  and 
lawns,  of  a  once  gay  place  of  sojourn  of  His  Royal 
Highness,  the  Duke  of  Kent. 

His  survey  of  the  basin  over,  Camperdown 
brought  back  his  gaze  to  his  immediate  surround- 
ings.    Just  across  from  him,  by  the  broken  piers  of 


i- 1 


398 


THE    HOUSE    OF   ARMOUR 


a  former  bridge  over  the  Narrows,  were  ships  laid 
up  for  the  winter. 

"Potato  ships  probably,"  he  ejaculated.  "Get 
on,  Polypharmacy ;  here's  a  train  coming." 

Polypharmacy  crept  on  slowly,  though  his  master 
had  drawn  him  up  between  the  railway  track  and  a 
high,  snowy  bank  with  overhanging  trees,  up  which 
he  would  find  it  impossible  to  go,  no  matter  how 
frightened  he  would  be.  But  Polypharmacy  did 
not  mind  a  train.  When  it  came  shrieking  around 
the  curve  beside  him,  he  merely  Hicked  the  ear 
next  it  in  temporary  annoyance,  and  proceeded 
philosophically  on  his  way. 

"  Why,  there's  Stargarde  ! "  exclaimed  Camper- 
down,  surveying  a  figure  some  distance  ahead  of 
him  on  the  narrow  road.  "On  some  Quixotic  er- 
rand, of  course,"  frowning  and  hurrying  after  her. 

Polypharmacy  had  shed  his  fine  peal  of  bells 
with  the  sleigh,  and  Stargarde  not  hearing  the  car- 
riage wheels  in  the  soft  mud,  started  slightly  on 
hearing  her  name  pronounced. 

Such  a  rosy,  laughing  face  she  turned  to  him  ! 
But  his  annoyance  did  not  pass  away.  "What 
foolishness  is  this?  where  are  you  going?" 

"  To  see  a  sick  friend  near  the  three-mile  house. 
And  you  ?  " 

*'  Young  man  fell  off  a  barn  while  shingling  it ; 
brain  fever,  and  Pm  attending  him." 

"That's  my  friend,"  said  Stargarde. 


>s  laid 

"Get 

master 
:  and  a 
which 
;r  how 
cy  did 
around 
:he  ear 
ceeded 

amper- 

ead  of 

Dtic  er- 

r  her. 

bells 
he  car- 
tly  on 

him  ! 
"What 

house. 

ling  it ; 


LOVE   WILL    BUILD    HIS    LILY   WALLS 


399 


: 


"Then  we'll  go  together,"  putting  out  a  hand  to 
assist  her  into  the  carriage. 

"  I  think  I  would  rather  walk,  Brian." 

"I  don't  see  why  you  should  go  rambling  all 
over  the  country  alone,"  he  said,  all  his  dissatisfac- 
tion coming  out  in  one  burst  of  irritability.  "  It's 
abominable.     Where  is  your  dog?  " 

"  I  didn't  think  I  was  coming  out  and  Vivienne 
took  him  to  the  park." 

"  Will  you  come  with  me  ?  "  he  asked  in  patient 
exasperation. 

"  Yes,"  and  she  stepped  into  the  buggy. 

He  was  in  a  wretched  humor ;  but  she  was  in  one 
so  gay,  so  light-hearted,  that  she  gradually  charmed 
him  out  of  it. 

Then,  having  yielded,  he  fell  into  an  opposite 
humor,  for  he  had  long  ago  given  up  as  imprac- 
ticable the  transparent  fiction  that  he  had  ceased 
to  love  her  with  his  former  devotion. 

"  I  am  glad  thjt  we  have  arrived,"  said  Star- 
garde  laughing  and  blushing,  as  Polypharmacy  of 
his  own  accord  stopped  short  on  the  snowy, 
country  road  before  a  dull  red  farmhouse  flanked 
by  a  yellow  barn. 

Camperdown,  splashing  through  snow  and  water 
in  his  big,  rubber  boots,  opened  a  long  gate  and 
looked  at  Polypharmacy,  who  accepted  the  mute 
invitation  to  come  in  and  be  tied  to  a  "hitching 
post." 


m 


400 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


iii 


m 


i 

^  Jki 


*  I 


Stargarde  walked  up  the  little  path  which  in 
summer  time  was  bordered  by  flowers,  and  tapped 
softly  at  the  door.  A  neighbor  opened  it  and 
bestowed  on  her  sundry  confidences  in  half-tones 
with  regard  to  the  sick  man,  whose  mother,  she  said 
was  "  clean  distracted." 

They  sat  for  some  time  in  the  old-fashioned 
kitchen  of  the  house,  by  an  open  fireplace  in  which 
sticks  of  wood  burned  and  sputtered  in  a  subdued 
way,  till  the  farmer's  wife  came  in  from  the  sick- 
room, tears  running  down  her  cheeks.  The  doctor 
was  going  to  stay  a  little  while  to  observe  her  son's 
symptoms,  she  said,  and  she  begged  that  Miss 
Turner  would  wait  for  him  as  the  roads  were  too 
bad  for  her  to  walk  home. 

The  neighbor  rose,  and  busied  herself  in  drawing 
a  many-legged  table  from  the  corner  of  the  room, 
spreading  a  white  cloth  on  it,  and  putting  deftly  in 
their  places  a  number  of  blue,  willow-patterned 
dishes.  When  everything  was  in  order  on  the 
table,  she  approached  the  fireplace,  and  swinging 
toward  her  the  crane  suspended  over  the  blaze, 
poured  boiling  water  from  a  teakettle  hanging  to 
it  into  a  brown  teapot  that  she  placed  in  a  corner 
of  the  brick  hearth. 

Refusing  all  entreaties  to  stay  and  partake  of  the 
meal,  by  saying  that  she  must  return  to  her  family,  she 
took  leave  of  Stargarde,  of  the  farmer's  wife,  and  of 
the  farmer  himself,  who  at  that  moment  came  in. 


LOVE   WILL    BUILD    HIS    LILY   WALLS 


401 


ich  in 
apped 
it  and 
'-tones 
le  said 

hioned 
which 
ibdued 
e  sick- 
doctor 
;r  son's 
t  Miss 
;re  too 

rawing 
room, 
eftly  in 
ttemed 
on  the 
vinging 
blaze, 
ging  to 
corner 

I  of  the 
lilv,  she 
and  of 
tie  in. 


The  long  twilight  began  to  close,  and  still  Cam- 
perdown  lingered.  The  mother  had  been  with  him 
some  time  in  the  sick-room.  Stargarde  sat  quietly 
consoling  the  farmer  as  she  had  consoled  his  wife. 

"  My  son,  my  son,  my  only  son,"  were  all  the 
words  the  old  man  could  utter  till  Dr.  Camperdown 
stood  quietly  beside  him  and  laid  a  hand  on  his 
shoulder.  "  Mr.  White,  your  son  is  going  to  get 
well,  with  God's  blessing." 

The  old  man  started  up,  wrung  his  hand,  ejacu- 
lated, "God  bless  you,  sir  !"  and  hurried  from  the 
room. 

"They  won't  leave  him,"  said  Camperdown  look- 
ing away  from  Stargarde  who  was  wiping  sympa- 
thetic tears  from  her  eyes.  "  Mrs.  White  says  for 
us  to  take  some  tea  before  we  go.  They'll  be 
offended  if  we  don't." 

He  lifted  the  enormous  brown  teapot  to  a  stand 
on  the  table,  and  while  waiting  for  Stargarde  to  sit 
down,  walked  noiselessly  about  the  room  scanning 
with  curious  eye  the  high  cupboards,  the  ancient 
latches  on  the  doors,  the  brass  candlesticks  on  the 
mantel  shelf,  and  the  long  oven  set  in  the  wall  and 
arched  over  with  brickwork. 

Finally  he  came  to  a  standstill  at  the  table,  and 
surveyed  the  various  dishes  that  the  farmer's  wife 
in  her  gratitude  had  offered  to  them. 

"Potted  head,  that  she  has  made  herself,"  he 
said  ;  "  rolls  also.     Her  own  brown  bread,  such  as 

2A 


I 


m 


402 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


^'■1"^ 
:^-ili 


r 


I 


;ji 


1 1  i 


i&i 


m 


bakers  do  not  dream  of;  beans  grown  by  them- 
selves ;  pork  from  a  porker  off  the  farm  ;  preserve 
of  berries  from  her  own  little  garden  ;  eggs  from 
her  biddies  ;  cream  from  her  cows  ;  doughnuts  friz- 
zled in  the  lard  of  her  own  swine.  Come,  Star- 
garde,  will  you  say  grace  and  pour  the  tea  ?  " 

"Yes,  Brian,"  taking  the  chair  that  he  placed  for 
her,  and  examining  approvingly  and  with  feminine 
minuteness  of  observation  the  spotless  cleanliness 
ot  the  little  table. 

"You  have  picked  up  wonderfully,"  said  Cam- 
perdown  a  few  minutes  later,  moving  the  lamp  in 
order  that  he  might  have  a  better  view  of  her 
features.     "I  was  worried  about  you  two  weeks 

"I  am  in  excellent  health  now,  thanks  to  your 
doses,"  said  Stargarde  with  a  laughing  grimace  that 
revealed  to  him  the  two  rows  of  teeth  that  Zilla  in 
her  vile  slang  called  "white  nuns." 

"Your  tea  is  ready,"  she  went  on,  holding  out 
one  of  the  big,  blue  teacups  that  he  had  sent  to 
her  to  be  refilled  for  the  third  time. 

He  had  fallen  into  a  sudden  reverie,  and  seeing 
that  he  sat  with  eyes  bent  abstractedly  on  his  knife 
and  fork,  Stargarde  got  up  and  took  the  cup  around 
the  table  to  him. 

When  she  set  it  down  he  glanced  up  quickly, 
and  was  about  to  ask  her  pardon,  but  stopped 
short,  the  words  arrested  on  his  lips  by  the  expres- 


y  them- 
preserve 
Tgs  from 
nuts  friz- 
ne,  Star- 

laced  for 
feminine 
eanliness 

lid  Cam- 
;  lamp  in 
\r  of  her 
vo  weeks 

s  to  your 
■nace  that 
it  Zilla  in 

Iding  out 
d  sent  to 

id  seeing 
his  knife 
p  around 

quickly, 
stopped 
le  expres- 


LOVE   WILL    BUILD    HIS    LILY    WALLS 


403 


sion  of  her  face  as  she  stood  looking  down  at  him. 
At  last  it  was  a  pleasure  to  her  to  minister  to  him, 
at  last  his  "  bird  of  free  and  careless  wing "  had 
been  caught. 

He  grew  pale,  drew  his  breath  hard  and  fast, 
and  laid  his  hand  masterfully  over  hers. 

She  started,  and  drew  her  fingers  from  him. 
Then  with  her  throat  suffused  with  color,  and 
streaks  of  red  across  her  white  cheeks,  she  walked 
to  the  window  and  gazed  out  at  a  drizzling  rain 
that  had  begun  to  fall. 

Camperdown  raised  the  cup  to  his  lips  once  or 
twice  without  tasting  the  tea,  then  set  it  down,  and 
with  a  last  glance  at  the  straight,  lissome  back  of 
the  disconsolate  figure  by  the  window,  returned  to 
his  patient. 

Stargarde  glanced  over  her  shoulder  in  a  startled 
manner  when  the  door  closed  behind  him.  "  I  must 
get  away ;  I  cannot  go  back  with  him.  Mrs. 
White,"  to  the  farmer's  wife,  who  came  gliding  like 
a  happy  ghost  to  her  side,  "  I  cannot  wait  any 
longer  for  the  doctor  ;  don't  tell  him  I've  gone." 

The  woman,  hardly  conscious  of  what  she  was 
doing  in  her  rapturous  state  of  mind  at  the  pros- 
pect of  her  son's  recovery,  wrapped  Stargarde's 
cloak  about  her. 

"Tell  him  that  I  don't  mind  the  rain  and  the 
darkness,"  said  Stargarde  hurriedly.  "  I  need  the 
walk  ;  I  will  come  again  to-morrow  to  see  you.     I 


li>    I 


I'  * . 


hii 


\ 

III 


f 


\     n 
•<  1 


:ii 


I-  'i 
I'll' 


<i| 


; 


II I     !l 


i;  .    I 


404 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


am  praying  for  your  boy ;  good-night,"  and  with 
feverish  haste  she  slipped  away. 

Over  the  wet  d  sloppy  road  she  went,  some- 
times breaking  into  a  run,  then  walking  so  slowly 
that  she  scarcely  seemed  to  be  moving,  her  tor- 
tured face  bent  on  her  breast,  or  lifted  inquiringly 
to  the  dripping  sky  above  her.  The  road  was 
almost  deserted,  but  once  or  twice  she  shrunk 
aside  to  allow  belated  Negroes  to  pass  her,  who 
were  urging  on  their  horses  in  the  direction  of  their 
homes  in  Hammonds  Plains. 

She  did  not  choose  the  way  by  which  they  had 
gone  to  the  farmhouse,  but  turned  into  the  long 
stretch  of  road  leading  past  the  cotton  factory,  and 
skirting  the  wide  common  where  military  parades 
are  held. 

It  was  a  highway  cheerful  enough  on  a  bright 
day,  but  unspeakably  lonely  and  dreary  on  a  dark 
night,  when  sky  and  earth  were  alike  mournful. 
Soon  she  sank  down  on  a  stone  by  the  roadside, 
and  burst  into  a  flood  of  passionate  tears.  "  I  can- 
not— I  will  not — it  is  not  right !  O  God,  show  me 
my  duty."  Then  kneeling  on  the  ground  with  her 
head  against  the  stoi.e,  she  prayed  long  and  fer- 
vently. 

It  was  some  time  before  the  struggle  was  over, 
the  battle  fought,  but  at  last  she  arose,  self  under 
foot,  as  it  usually  was  in  her  conflicts.  She  tried  to 
shake  the  water  from  her  garments,  then  patiently 


LOVE   WILL    BUILD    HIS   LILY   WALLS 


405 


jid  with 

it,  some- 
o  slowly 
her  tor- 
quiringly 
road  was 
e  shrunk 
her,  who 
n  of  their 

they  had 

the  long 

:tory,  and 

y  parades 

a  bright 
on  a  dark 
mournful, 
roadside, 
"I  can- 
show  me 
with  her 
and  fer- 

was  over, 
self  under 
le  tried  to 
patiently 


plodded  on  in  the  direction  of  the  town,  the  elec- 
tric lamps  shining  like  signal  lights  before  her. 

A  splashing  sound  behind  made  her  pause  sud- 
denly and  look  back.  There  were  the  two  lights 
of  the  carriage,  Polypharmacy  looming  between 
them  like  a  mountain  of  a  horse.  Her  heart  beat 
violently.  How  acutely  her  lover  had  guessed  that 
she  would  take  this  road  to  the  town.  A  wild  first 
impulse  to  hide  from  him  made  her  slip  into  the 
shadow  of  a  building  that  she  was  passing. 

He  was  driving  slowly,  and  at  every  few  paces 
was  putting  out  his  head  and  narrowly  inspecting 
the  road.  "Stargarde,  Stargarde,"  she  heard  him 
say  softly  when  he  was  at  a  Ijttle  distance  from  her. 

Something  impelled  her  to  go  to  him  despite 
herself  "  Here  I  am,  Brian,"  she  said  with  a  final 
convulsive  sob,  and  wearily  dragging  her  limbs  over 
the  miry  way. 

He  dropped  the  reins,  put  out  both  hands  and 
assisted  her  in  beside  him.  "  Poor  child,  you  are 
very  wet,"  he  said  in  his  ordinary  tone  of  voice ; 
"you  should  not  have  run  away  from  me."  Then 
seeing  that  she  turned  her  face  to  the  cloth-covered 
side  of  the  bugg}'^,  he  forebore  further  question  or 
remark,  and  they  drove  in  silence  across  the  Com- 
mon and  down  through  the  town  to  the  Pavilion. 

There  he  sprang  out  and  assisted  her  to  alight, 
then  followed  her  to  her  room  where  she  sat  down 
beside  a  bright  fire  and  shivered  slightly. 


^i 


hi 


'     1  i 


,    It 
ill.   t  i 


406 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"You  will  at  once  change  your  wet  things,"  he 
said. 

She  blushed  deeply,  but  neither  spoke  nor  looked 
at  him  till  his  hand  was  laid  on  the  door.  Then 
she  turned  her  deep,  blue  eyes  toward  him.  "  Good 
Brian,  dear  patient  Brian." 

He  drew  a  little  nearer  to  her  as  if  fascinated. 

**So  long  you  have  had  to  wait,"  she  said  with 
an  adorable  smile.     "Now " 

"You  confess  that  you  love  me,"  he  said  quietly. 

"Yes,  with  my  whole  heart  and  soul." 

"You  made  a  brave  fight,  Stargarde." 

"Oh,  I  did  not  know  what  it  was,"  she  said 
ardently.  "I  knew  love  was  not  selfish,  yet  I 
thought  it  would  crowd  my  people  out  of  my  affec- 
tions to  love  you.  Then  I  did  not  want  to  give  up 
my  will.     I  thought  I  had  chosen  my  life-work." 

"And  what  do  you  think  now?"  he  asked,  fold- 
ing his  arms  and  coming  a  little  nearer  to  her. 

"The  love  that  I  feel  for  you,"  she  exclaimed, 
clasping  her  hands  over  her  beautiful  breast,  "it 
makes  me  love  humanity  not  less  but  more,  a  thou- 
sand times  more.  Every  man  is  dearer  to  me  for 
your  dear  sake,  every  woman  because  she  is  part 
of  man " 

As  she  spoke  she  lifted  her  face  to  a  photograph 
of  the  gemlike  Garvagh  Madonna  that  hung  on  the 
wall  above  her.  The  large  hat,  slipping  from  her 
golden  head,  showed  numberless  little  rings  of  hair 


Q 


LOVE   WILL    BUILD    HIS    LILY    WALLS 


407 


lings,"  he 

or  looked 
)r.  Then 
1.  "Good 

inated. 
said  with 

d  quietly. 


she  said 
sh,  yet  I 
my  affec- 
o  give  up 
•work." 
ked,  fold- 
her. 

xclaimed, 
reast,  "it 
e,  a  thou- 
to  me  for 
le  is  part 

lotograph 
ng  on  the 
from  her 
gs  of  hair 


curled  tightly  by  the  damp  air  of  the  evening.  Her 
parted  lips,  her  rapt  expression,  instead  of  draw- 
ing her  lover  nearer,  made  him  suddenly  retreat 
with  a  gesture  of  inexpressible  pain. 

Her  features  at  once  lost  their  unearthly  ex- 
pression. "Brian,"  she  said,  holding  out  her  hands 
to  him,  "  Brian,  my  dear  boy " 

And  still  he  hesitated.  "What  is  wrong  with 
you  ?  "  she  asked  in  most  womanly  anxiety. 

"  You  are  so  much  above  me,"  vehemently  and 
brokenly,  "  I  am  not  fit  for  you.  You  are  like 
something  holy.     I  dare  not  touch  you." 

"  You  will  get  over  that,"  she  said,  shaking  her 
head  and  smiling  happily ;  "  and  I  wish  I  were  half 
as  good  as  you  fancy  me.  Come,  dear  lad,  I  will 
make  the  first  advance.  Here  is  a  betrothal  kiss 
for  you  ;  and  then  you  must  go  home." 

She  got  up,  and  for  the  first  time  the  dimpled 
cheek  was  laid  willingly  against  his,  her  arm  slipped 
around  his  neck,  and  like  a  man  in  a  trance  of  pain- 
ful ecstasy  he  pressed  his  lips  to  the  beloved  head 
laid  upon  his  breast,  and  heard  her  sweet  lips  mur- 
mur a  tender  prayer  for  a  blessing  on  their  united 
lives. 

Then  with  a  passionate  embrace  and  a  heartfelt 
cry  of  "  Unworthy,  unworthy,"  he  hurried  in  his 
tumultuous  fashion  from  the  room. 


I 


CHAPTER  XXXI 


MACDALY  S   LECTURE 


f  ^  I    / 


I   I:! 


VARIOUS  apocryphal  stories  are  told  of  Brian 
Camperdown's  doings  on  the  night  that  Star- 
garde  Turner  promised  to  be  his  wife.  It  is  said 
that  his  blood  being  in  too  much  of  a  tumult  to 
allow  him  to  enter  his  house  and  go  to  sleep,  he 
started  on  a  joyful  and  eccentric  pilgrimage  around 
the  peninsula  on  which  the  city  of  Halifax  is  built 

Not  satisfied  with  tramping  over  the  dark  and 
muddy  roads  of  the  Park,  and  the  quiet  streets  of 
the  city,  he  is  said  to  have  proceeded  along  the 
shores  of  Bedford  Basin,  and  on  the  spot  where 
more  than  a  hundred  years  ago  dead  French  sol- 
diers, unhappy  members  of  the  expedition  of  1 746, 
were  discovered  sitting  under  the  trees,  their  useless 
muskets  by  their  sides — he,  by  a  fitful  gleam  of 
moonlight,  carved  his  v.wn  and  Stargarde's  initials 
on  the  smooth-coated  bark  of  a  maple. 

A  story  also  exists  of  his  having  been  seen  eight 
miles  farther  on,  and  of  his  startling  a  watcher  by 
a  sick-bed  by  a  glimpse  of  his  ecstatic  face  looking 
through  the  cottage  window ;  but  this  one  is  uncer- 
tain, and  has  never  been  corroborated. 
408 


MACDALYS    LECTURE 


409 


of  Brian 
that  Star- 
It  is  said 
tumult  to 
sleep,  he 
Tc  around 
LX  is  built, 
dark  and 
streets  of 
along  the 
30t  where 
rench  sol- 
n  of  1746, 
leir  useless 
gleam  of 
le's  initials 

seen  eight 
i^atcher  by 
ce  looking 
e  is  uncer- 


Certain  it  is,  however,  that  at  daylight  he  returned 
home  neither  footsore  nor  weary  and  still  in  his  state 
of  exaltation.  He  let  himself  in  by  means  of  a  latch- 
key, made  an  elaborate  and  prolonged  toilet,  then 
restlessly  haunted  the  lower  rooms  of  the  house, 
waiting  for  some  one  to  wake  up  to  whom  he  could 
impart  his  joyful  intelligence. 

Old  Hannah  was  the  first  person  to  come  down- 
stairs. To  her,  blear-eyed  and  affectionate,  he, 
with  an  agonized  twisting  of  lips,  in  order  that  he 
might  not  shout  his  news  to  the  entire  household, 
announced  the  fact  that  he  was  shortly  to  be  mar- 
ried. 

His  ancient  nurse  staggered  back  as  if  she  had 
received  a  blow,  and  fell  in  a  rickety  heap  of  bones 
on  the  hall  floor.  He  lifted  her  up,  administered 
restoratives,  and  presently  had  the  mortification  of 
seeing  her  burst  into  tears  and  stumble  down  to  the 
basement 

"And  she  professes  to  adore  Stargarde,"  he 
muttered,  backing  in  discomfiture  into  the  dining 
room  to  avoid  the  two  smart  maids,  who  were  trip- 
ping down  the  staircase  in  snowy  caps  and  aprons. 

Warned  by  his  experience  with  Hannah,  he  said 
nothing  to  Mrs.  Trotley  and  Zilla  beyond  a  polite 
"  Good-morning,"  till  they  were  well  on  with  their 
breakfast  Then,  with  a  diminished  spirit,  he  cau- 
tiously informed  them  of  the  approaching  change 
in  his  condition. 


iit! 


Pry 


^m 


\0m 


^^M> 


m'f 


410 


THE    HOUSE    OF   ARMOUR 


Zilla  had  been  talking  volubly,  but  at  his  words 
she  snapped  off  a  sentence  on  her  lips,  let  fall  her 
porridge  spoon,  and  gave  him  a  look  that  made  him 
quail. 

Mrs.  Trotley  was  more  to  be  pitied  than  Zilla. 
At  the  close  of  a  long  and  unhappy  life  the  lines 
had  fallen  to  her  in  pleasant  places,  and  these 
pleasant  places  she  naturally  supposed  she  must 
forsake  should  her  patron  marry.  Yet  she  had 
command  enough  over  herself  to  endeavor  to  hide 
her  feelings.  Camperdown's  keen  eyes,  however, 
pierced  through  her  disguise,  and  even  while  she 
was  uttering  her  congratulations  to  him,  and  wish- 
ing that  Stargarde  might  enjoy  every  happiness,  he 
saw  the  two  salt  tears  come  rolling  slowly  down 
her  cheeks. 

She  knew  that  he  saw  them,  and  was  overcome 
by  confusion.  "We  have  been  very  happy  to- 
gether," she  murmured  apologetically. 

Zilla  made  no  pretense  at  self-control.  Pushing 
herself  violently  away  from  the  table  she  ran  up- 
stairs, where  Camperdown  knew  she  would  cty  till 
she  made  herself  ill. 

"What  a  monster  I  am  ! "  he  soliloquized,  excus- 
ing himself  from  the  table  and  hastily  making  his 
way  out  of  the  house.  "Only  the  author  of  all 
these  troubles  can  heal  them." 

He  walked  rapidly  toward  the  Pavilion,  stopping 
once  on  his  way  there  to  order  a  gift  of  fruit  and 


MACDALY  S    LECTURE 


411 


is  words 

fall  her 

lade  him 

m  Zilla. 
:he  lines 
id  these 
he  must 
she  had 
•  to  hide 
[lowever, 
^hile  she 
ind  wish- 
)iness,  he 
ly  down 

►vercome 
ippy  to- 
Pushing 
ran  up- 
cry  till 

d,  excus- 
iking  his 
or  of  all 

stopping 
fruit  and 


flowers  to  be  sent  immediately  to  Mrs.  Trotlcy  and 
Zilla. 

Stargarde  was  at  breakfast,  and  laying  a  bunch 
of  roses,  flowers  that  she  passionately  loved,  beside 
her,  he  drew  up  a  chair  and  with  a  dismal  face 
begged  for  a  cup  of  chocolate^ 

"  I  have  to  give  you  up,"  he  said,  swallowing  the 
scalding  liquor  with  alarming  taste  and  rolling  his 
twinkling  eyes  at  her. 

"  Have  you  ?  "  tranquilly. 

"Yes;  my  family  doesn't  approve,"  and  he  re- 
lated his  domestic  troubles  to  her. 

"Dear  things,  how  they  love  you!"  and  she 
gazed  caressingly  at  him. 

"  I  wonder  what  would  make  me  give  you  up  ?  " 
he  muttered. 

"  I  will  go  and  see  Mrs.  Trotley  and  Zilla  and 
poor  old  Hannah,"  she  said  thoughtfully. 

"You  don't  wish  them  to  leave  my  house,  do 
you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no  ;  I  am  accustomed  to  a  large  family. 
We  shall  all  live  happily  together." 

"Are  you  ever  going  to  stop  eating  bread  and 
butter?"  he  asked  impatiently.  "That  is  your 
fifth  slice." 

"Why  should  I?"  with  a  mischievous  dimple 
showing  itself  in  her  cheek. 

"This  is  malice  aforethought,"  he  said  firmly, 
sitting  down  beside  her,  and  withdrawing  a  morsel 


I 


PMl 


l| 


II,  i 


iiii; 


Ill 


li'  3  <<  '  i 


412 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


of  bread  from  her  hands.  "  Now,"  holding  her 
wrists,  **  give  me  a  kiss,  sweet,  passionate  soul  in  a 
pcissionless  body." 

"  Don't  speak  in  that  way,"  she  said,  kissing  him. 
"It  sounds  as  if  I  had  no  feeling." 

"Well,  you  haven't  You  say  'dear  Brian,'" 
mimicking  her,  "  and  then  it  is  *  dear  granny,'  and 
*dear  Bobby,'  and  'dear  everybody.'  " 

She  laughed  merrily.  "Would  you  have  me 
striding  to  and  fro  and  glaring  at  you,  and  looking 
daggers  over  my  she  Jder  as  you  do  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  you  might  be  a  little  more  demi  >n- 
strative.  Women  don't  know  how  to  love.  You  re 
nothing  but  a  proper  old  maid.  The  time  vas 
when  I  would  have  cut  my  throat  for  a  kiss.  Lord, 
what  agony ! " 

She  looked  at  him  sweetly,  and  as  he  would  not 
release  her  hands  gently  laid  her  cheek  against  his 
face. 

"You  are  a  beauty  and  I  am  a  beast,"  he  said 
abruptly  ;  "  aren't  you  afraid  of  me  ?  " 

"  Why  should  I  be  afraid  of  you,  Brian  ?  You 
don't  love  me  for  what  you  are  pleased  to  call  my 
beauty,  nor  do  I  love  you  for  what  you  are  pleased 
to  call  your  lack  of  it  There  is  something  beyond 
that" 

"  Yes,  yes,  my  angel ;  I  do  thank  the  Lord  that 
I  have  found  one  woman  that  can  look  into  my 
soul." 


MACDALY  S    LECTURE 


413 


ing  her 
)ul  in  a 


nf^  him. 


Brian,'  " 
ny,'  and 

lave  me 
looking 

dem<  >n- 

You  re 

ime    vas 

Lord, 

ould  not 
ainst  his 

'  he  said 

?  You 
call  my 
pleased 
beyond 

,ord  that 
into  my 


"  In  sickness  and  in  health,  in  prosperity  and  in 
adversity,  in  life  and  in  death  we  are  for  each  other 
now,"  she  said.  **  How  lovingly  you  would  cherish 
me  were  I  suddenly  to  become  old  and  ugly  and 
unattractive.  Brian,  last  night  at  the  three-mile 
house  when  you  looked  up  at  me  at  the  table " 

"Yes,  darling." 

"  I  had  been  thinking  about  your  patient ;  then 
the  thought  suddenly  came  to  me,  'Suppose  this 
man  too,  should  become  ill — ^should  die  ? '  My 
heart  seemed  to  stand  still.  I  thought  I  should 
suffocate.  Oh,  Brian,  take  good  care  of  yourself. 
I  fear  that  I  could  not  say,  'the  Lord's  will  be 
done,'  if  anything  should  happen  to  you,"  and 
burying  her  face  in  his  shoulder  she  began  sobbing 
violently. 

"Come  now,  this  is  idolatry,"  he  said,  looking 
down  at  her  with  a  radiant  face ;  "  rank  idolatry, 
and  you  will  be  punished  for  it  according  to  your 
own  pleasant  theory.  I  wanted  you  to  b*^  demon- 
strative, sweetheart ;  but  not  along  this  line.  When 
will  you  marry  me  ?  " 

"  Whenever  you  think  best,  Brian.  I  have  given 
up  worrying  about  this  place.  The  Lord  will  pro- 
vide some  other  person  to  take  care  of  the  people. 
We  are  none  of  us  indispensable  to  him." 

"No,"  he  said  gravely.  "When  will  you  marry 
me?" 

"  In  three  months,  Brian.** 


f 

\ 

I 

1 

• 

il 

j 

; 

; 

j 

\       I 

:fl 

'  "^1 

'/« 

j 

6    Jl' 

if 

hi-' 

! 

' 

1 

k  fS 

^  ^9 

! 

!■ 

i 

i 

i 
i 

; 

■ 

1 

414 


THE    HOUSE    OF   ARMOUR 


V  m 


lil 


m     k|» 


!.     ,     .     ?!  I 


<    ^'t 


"In  six  weeks,  beauty ;  and  when  shall  I  see 
you  again?" 

"To-morrow  afternoon." 

"This  evening,  my  charmer." 

"Brian,"  she  said,  clinging  lovingly  to  his  arm, 
"  I  suppose  nothing  would  induce  you  to  live  in  the 
Pavilion." 

He  made  a  wry  face.  "I'll  come  if  my  wife  re- 
fuses to  live  in  any  other  place." 

"  Your  v-fe  will  do  as  you  wish,"  said  Stargarde. 

"You  SA  creature,  and  blessed  man  that  I 
am !"  and  witii  a  final  embrace  he  left  her. 

Stargarde  spent  as  usual  a  busy  day,  and  at  six 
o'clock  sat  down  to  a  brief  and  lively  repast  that 
Vivienne  and  Judy  came  in  to  share  with  her. 
After  the  tea  things  had  been  put  away,  she  invited 
them  to  go  with  her  to  a  large  room  used  for  gen- 
eral assembly  purposes  by  the  tenants  of  the  Pa- 
vilion and  called  the  kitchen. 

The  two  girls  gladly  accompanied  her,  for  the 
cheering  and  consoling  of  the  different  members  of 
Stargarde's  enormous  family  had  become  their 
chief  occupation.  They  walked  along  to  the  large 
apartment,  glancing  across  as  they  did  so  to  the 
bathroom,  washhouses,  and  co-operative  baking  es- 
tablishment, in  the  courtyard,  with  the  working  of 
which  they  had  become  quite  familiar. 

"  Isn't  this  jolly ! "  exclaimed  Judy  when  the 
kitchen  door  was  pushed  open. 


I   I  see 


MACDALYS    LECTURE 


415 


lis  arm, 
^e  in  the 

wife  re- 

:argarde. 
1  that  I 

d  at  six 
past  that 
rith  her. 
e  invited 
'or  gen- 
the  Pa- 

for  the 
nbers  of 
ne  their 
he  large 
0  to  the 
aking  es- 
rking  of 

^hen  the 


At  one  side  of  the  extensive  and  irregularly 
shaped  room,  heaped-up  logs  blazed  in  a  vast 
cavern  of  a  fireplace.  No  other  light  was  needed. 
The  floor  was  a  painted  one,  and  the  furniture  con- 
sisted of  a  number  of  plain  wooden  rocking-chairs 
for  children  and  grown  people,  a  few  small  tables, 
and  a  piano  situated  in  a  dusky  corner. 

At  this  piano  a  red-coated  soldier  was  seated, 
singing  amorously,  "  I'm  so  'appy ;  so  terrible 
'appy,"  to  a  maiden  hovering  sentimentally  over 
him.  Some  children  sprawling  on  the  floor  were 
tossing  jackstones,  and  two  gray-haired  men  at  a 
table  were  intent  on  draughts. 

An  old  woman,  known  as  "granny,"  sat  knitting 
by  the  fire.  There  was  alway  a  granny  in  the  Pa- 
vilion, for  when  one  died  Stargarde  immediately 
got  another,  saying  that  the  spectacle  of  an  aged 
person  among  young  ones,  beloved  and  waited  on 
by  all,  was  one  of  the  most  humanizing  experi- 
ments she  had  ever  tried. 

She  gave  a  kind  "good-evening"  to  the  people 
in  the  room  and  then  approached  the  old  woman. 
"  How  are  you,  dear  granny  ?  " 

The  venerable  knitter  was  in  a  bad  frame  of 
mind,  and  at  first  would  vouchsafe  no  answer,  but 
pretended  to  be  greatly  occupied  with  picking  up 
a  dropped  stitch.  In  response  to  another  appeal 
she  said  irritably  that  she  was  "  cruel  poorly,"  and 
there  was  "death  in  the  wind." 


4i6 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


)^ 


I  I 

1   f^ 


m 


I    11 


"Draw  the  curtain  behind  granny,"  said  Star- 
garde,  motioning  one  of  the  children  to  a  window. 
"  She  doesn't  feel  well.  What  can  we  do  to  cheer 
her?" 

"  Make  some  sweet  stuff,"  said  Judy,  who  was 
philosophically  inspecting  the  drawn  and  crabbed 
face.  That  will  tickle  her  palate — and  her  vanity 
too,"  in  a  lower  key. 

"  Happy  thought ! "  said  Stargarde.  "  Dick  and 
Mary,  will  you  go  to  my  rooms  and  get  a  sauce- 
pan ?  " 

Ten  I'unutes  later  a  pot  of  candy  simmered  on 
the  coals  sending  out  a  fragrant  cloud  of  steam 
that  the  old  woman  sniffed  appreciatively. 

Soon  other  people  began  to  come  in — more 
soldiers  and  more  girls,  happy  in  the  knowledge 
that  they  might  carry  on  legitimate  love-making  in 
shadowy  corners  under  Stargarde's  vigilant  but 
sympathetic  eye. 

The  boys  of  the  Pavilion  took  turns  at  door- 
keeping,  for  the  kitchen  was  kept  open  at  all  hours. 
This  evening  a  small  red-eyed  lad  officiated,  and  to 
his  shrill  remarks  Vivienne  and  Judy  listened  in 
concealed  amusement 

"You  can't  come  in,"  he  said  abruptly  to  a  lad 
of  his  own  size  who  was  shouldering  his  way  past 
him. 

"Why  not?  "  fiercely  ;  "you  ain't  Miss  Turner." 

"I'm  her  doorkeeper,  and  she'll  not  have  you." 


MACDALY  S   LECTURE 


417 


id  Star- 
window, 
to  cheer 

vho  was 
crabbed 
sr  vanity 

Dick  and 
a  sauce- 

lered  on 
of  steam 

in — more 
tiowledge 
naking  in 
ant   but 

at  door- 
all  hours. 

d,  and  to 
stened  in 

to  a  lad 
way  past 

Turner." 


ive  you 


>> 


"Why  not?" 

"Cause  you're  dirty." 

"Yerlie." 

"Can't  I  smell?"  said  the  other  indignantly. 
"  If  you  don't  go  and  take  a  warm  bath,  which  you 
can  have  for  nuthin',"  pointing  to  the  courtvard, 
"you  can't  come  in  here.     Now  get" 

"  I  sha'n't ;  I'm  comin'  in." 

The  doorkeeper  stood  his  ground.  "You  don't 
need  fine  duds  to  come  here,"  he  said  eloquently; 
"  Miss  Turner  '11  stand  rags  or  anythin',  but  you've 
got  to  be  clean.     She  hates  dirt" 

The  boy  silently  withdrew,  but  presently  came 
back  his  face  shining  with  a  cleanliness  that  was 
evidently  unusual  and  ^>ainful  to  him. 

Just  as  the  door  closed  behind  him  Dr.  Camper- 
down  and  Mr.  Armour  entered,  both  irresistibly 
drawn  thither  by  the  presence  of  the  women  they 
loved. 

Camperdown  stepped  in  boldly  and  confidently. 
He  was  a  frequent  visitor  to  the  place.  Armour 
came  in  more  quietly  and  looked  about  him  with 
some  curiosity. 

It  was  an  interesting  scen6.  The  flames  of  the 
enormous  fire  brightly  illumined  the  faces  and  figures 
of  Stargarde,  Vivienne,  Judy,  granny,  and  the  chil- 
dren, who  were  in  the  foreground,  and  th'^  groups 
at  the  various  tables  in  the  middle  of  the  room. 
The  retiring  few  who  had  withdrawn  to  the  window 

2B 


IV   li 


II      :i 


418 


THE    HOUSE    OF    ARMOUR 


seats  and  corner  benches  were  not  so  plainly  to  be 
observed. 

All  were  on  an  equality.  There  was  no  sharp 
drawing  of  class  lines  possible  in  Stargarde's  vicin- 
ity, and  every  face  in  the  room  was  for  the  time  a 
contented  face. 

Armour  and  Camperdown  sat  down  near  Star- 
garde  and  looked  about  them  while  listening  to 
the  overpowering  strains  of  a  melancholy  swan 
song  that  came  sobbing  and  crying  from  the  fiddle 
of  a  blind  man  who  sat  in  a  corner  of  the  room. 

A  club-footed  boy,  hitching  himself  over  the 
shining  floor,  occasionally  stirred  the  molasses  in 
the  pot  on  the  stove,  and  after  a  time,  to  the  great 
delight  of  the  children,  poured  it  out  in  a  number 
of  shallow  buttered  plates  and  took  it  out  to  the 
veranda  to  cool. 

Shortly  after  the  exit  of  the  taffy  plates,  the 
doorkeeper,  who  was  a  lad  not  deficient  in  a  sense 
of  humor,  caught  sight  of  a  new  guest,  and  with 
an  exaggerated  flourish  announced  in  his  shrillest 
tones,  "  Lord  Skitanglebags  !  " 

MacDaly  stepped  gallantly  forward,  smirking 
and  bowing  to  the  assembled  company  and  taking 
in  good  part  their  subdued  laughter  and  humorous 
salutations. 

He  had  arrayed  himself  in  white  stockings  and 
tan  shoes,  a  faded  red  military  jacket,  a  parti-col- 
ored sash  and  a  pair  of  shiny  black  trousers.     In 


MACDALYS    LECTURE 


419 


nly  to  be 

no  sharp 
ie's  vicin- 
the  time  a 

near  Star- 
stening  to 
tioly   swan 
,  the  fiddle 
e  room. 
•  over   the 
nolasses  in 
p  the  great 
1  a  number 
out  to  the 

plates,  the 
It  in  a  sense 
it,  and  with 
his  shrillest 

smirking 
and  taking 
Id  humorous 


iockings  and 
a  parti-col- 
Irousers. 


In 


one  hand  he  carried  a  sword,  and  in  the  other  a 
black  silk  hat.  This  hat  he  adroitly  turned  upside 
down,  thereby  allowing  to  f^U  upon  the  floor  in 
front  of  Stargarde  a  small  roll  of  manuscript. 

"  MacDaly,"  she  exclaimed,  surveying  in  amuse- 
ment his  beaming  face  and  the  gray  locks  brushed 
smoothly  upon  each  side  of  his  gleaming  bald  pate, 
"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  wish  to  give  us 
another  lecture  ?  " 

"  A  topical  lecture,  lady,"  meekly. 

"It  is  better  to  be  frank,  isn't  it?"  she  con- 
tinued. 

"  Yes,  lady ;  oh,  yes.  Frankness  is  the  privilege 
of  great  minds." 

"Your  last  lecture  was  too  long,"  she  said. 
"  Two  mortal  hours  we  had  to  sit  here  and  listen 
to  you.  It  wasn't  fair,  MacDaly,  for  we  are  all 
tired  people  and  come  to  the  kitchen  for  relaxa- 
tion. We  don't  want  a  formal  programme,  and 
though  it  is  very  interesting  to  hear  about  Napo- 
leon and  St.  Helena,  you  shouldn't  entrap  us  into 
listening  to  you  when  our  minds  aren't  in  a  recep- 
tive condition." 

"  True,  lady,  true,  most  unfortunately  true  ;  but 
yet,"  depositing  his  tall  hat  and  his  sword  on  the 
table,  and  tentatively  unfolding  his  manuscript 
with  a  roguish  gleam  in  the  tail  of  his  eye,  "yet  if 
I  might  be  graciously  vouchsafed  just  one  humble 
comer  wherein  to  amble  away  in  figures  of  speech 


fifi!!: 


Pi         li! 


f 
I'- 


w . 


V'  i 


!     • 


.1 


ii! 


420 


THE    HOUSE    OF    ARMOUR 


I 


lil. 


those  listening  who  felt  in  that  manner  disposed, 
those  not  attending  who  felt  in  any  way  so  inclined, 
I  might,  could,  would,  and  should " 

"  Go  on,  man,"  said  Camperdown  with  an  impe- 
rious gesture,  "and  don't  bore  people  to  death." 

MacDaly  blinked  maliciously  at  him,  stationed 
himself  against  the  wall  at  a  short  distance  from 
the  fire,  and  drawing  a  reading  desk  toward  him 
placed  his  manuscript  on  it. 

"  Docs  the  time  serve  my  presumption  ? "  he 
asked  presently,  peering  about  the  room  through  a 
pair  of  spectacles. 

No  one  heard  him.  The  soldiers  were  playing 
games  at  the  tables  with  their  sweethearts,  and  the 
other  men  and  women  were  engaged  in  conversa- 
tion. Stargarde,  Vivienne,  and  Dr.  Camperdown 
were  talking  to  a  sad-faced  girl  who  had  just  come 
in  ;  Judy  had  slipped  to  a  cushion  on  the  floor  and 
was  being  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  jackstones; 
and  Mr.  Armour  was  absently  stroking  his  mus- 
tache and  looking  into  the  fire. 

Nothing  daunted  MacDaly  cleared  his  throat 
and  began,  "  Be  it  known  to  all  men  that  some- 
body said  something  about  Lady  Stargarde  Turner 
and  her  systematic  family " 

"  Hear  him,"  said  Dr.  Camperdown  ;  "  he's  talk- 
ing about  you.  Miss  Turner." 

"  MacDaly,"  called  Stargarde  in  her  clear  sweet 
voice,  "you  mustn't  be  personal." 


MACDALYS    LECTURE 


421 


disposed, 
inclined, 

an  impe- 
death." 

stationed 
ance  from 
(Ward  him 

tion?"  he 
through  a 

;re  playing 
jts,  and  the 
1  conversa- 
imperdown 
I  just  come 
le  floor  and 
jackstones ; 
g  his  mus- 

his  throat 
that  some- 
arde  Turner 

"he's  talk- 

r  clear  sweet 


"Oh,  no,  lady,  no,  not  for  worlds." 

"  It  is  better  not  to  mention  names,"  she  went 
on. 

"  To  hear  is  to  obey,  lady,  as  the  Turks  say  when 
their  wives  talk  to  them.  We'll  conclude  that  the 
subject  of  this  brief  discourse  is  a  person  called 
Nameless,  otherwise  Bombo  Elephanto." 

"Very  well,"  she  replied  turning  back  to  the  girl. 

MacDaly,  sighing  heavily,  ran  his  finger  down 
his  manuscript,  obliged  by  Stargarde's  dictum  to 
skip  a  paragraph  of  proper  names.  *•  Well,  time 
rolled  on,"  he  said  at  last,  "and  as  it  is  customaiy 
in  the  finishing-up  dance,  be  it  as  it  may,  war  dance 
or  otherwise,  some  one  has  to  pay  the  piper,  this 
great  Mohawk  or  Mogul  as  I  may  call  him, 
Bombo  Elephanto,  ferociously  sets  to  work  teeth 
and  toenails  to  kill  a  crow  for  himself" 

"What  under  the  sun  is  he  at?  "  growled  Cam- 
perdown. 

"  Hush,"  whispered  Stargarde  ;  "  I  fear  he  is  on 
the  subject  of  Colonel  Armour.  MacDaly  has  a 
grudge  against  him  because  he  sneers  at  this  estab- 
lishment of  the  Pavilion,  and  this  is  the  way  he  has 
of  settling  it.  If  he  is  too  explicit  I  shall  have  to 
stop  him.'' 

"Bombo  Elephanto,"  resumed  MacDaly,  "be- 
ing aroused  into  some  of  the  mental  affections  to 
which  he  is  recer'iy  subject,  professionally  entitled 
to  be  periodical  hemidemicrania " 


/ 


y 


■si  u 


ill' I 


i 


I  III 


M      -"'I 


422 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  H'm  ;  this  sounds  interesting,"  muttered  Cam- 
perdown. 

MacDaly  eyed  him  cunningly.  "  Ha,  the  gentle- 
man with  the  beetling  brows  is  more  interested 
now  than  he  was  at  first" 

"Does  he  mean  me,  the  rascal?"  growled  *i- 
perdown. 

Stargarde,  suppressing  a  smile,  laid  a  finger  on 
his  arm,  and  MacDaly  in  high  glee  that  he  had  be- 
gun to  attract  the  attention  of  the  people  in  the 
room,  hitched  his  desk  a  little  nearer  to  the  fire 
and  continued  rapidly.  "  This  is  firmly  believed 
on  account  of  his  many  times  talking  aloud  inco- 
herently to  himself,  and  showing  a  triumph  by 
swaying  his  hand  with  great  violence  as  he  v  ^Iks 
along  in  company  with  some  unsightly  spr  ")r 
other  in  commune  with  him.  Shame,  shame,  I 
say,  as  all  do  say,  upon  him  who  would  foully  and 
peevishly  urge  wrong  from  his  rancoured  breast  to 
falsely  gratify  his  own  appetite  and  earthly  wicked 
desires  by  such  assiduous  passions." 

*'0h,  oh,"  groaned  Dr.  Camperdown  ;  "said  the 
pot  to  the  kettle,  thou  art  blacker  than  I." 

"  Such  a  being,"  pursued  MacDaly  with  uplifted 
voice,  "cannot  expect  much  else  than  to  meet  a 
bad  end.  Yea,  melt  like  butter  before  the  sun. 
Only  picture  the  awful  end  of  such  a  man  and  in 
comparison  with  the  terrific  state  of  Turkey,  where 
there  is  to  come  an  overpowering  smashup  and 


1 


MACDALYS    LECTURE 


423 


red  Cam- 

le  gentle- 
interested 


led 


A- 


finger  on 
le  had  be- 
ple  in  the 
:o  the  fire 
/  believed 
loud  inco- 
fiumph  by 
he  V  "Iks 
spr       ')r 
shame,   I 
foully  and 
d  breast  to 
hly  wicked 

;  ♦*  said  the 
»» 

ith  uplifted 
to  meet  a 
•e  the  sun. 
nan  and  in 
•key,  where 
lashup  and 


the  dethroning  of  the  sultan.  Ho  will  this 
country  be  governed  ?  I  prophesy  that  on 
account  of  the  graceful  form,  figure,  and  noble 
bearing  of  Lady  Stargarde  Turner,"  he  felt  him- 
self now  far  enough  in  the  favor  of  his  awakened 
audience  to  disregard  the  command  about  proper 
names,  "her  chances  are  many  of  being  made 
sultana." 

The  habituh  of  the  kitchen  highly  approving  of 
the  honor  proposed  for  their  patroness  interrupted 
MacDaly  by  such  a  clapping  of  hands  that  he 
paused  for  an  instant  to  mop  his  gratified  face. 

"Anticipating  her  ruling  such  a  barbarous,  un- 
couthed  people  with  a  steady  rod,"  he  hurried  on, 
"  and  reducing  the  price  of  raisins  and  figs,  I  would 
cast  a  prophetic  glance  into  that  future  and  proph- 
esy again  that  Mr.  Stanton  Armour " 

Armour  withdrew  his  eyes  from  the  fire  and  cast 
a  haughty  glance  at  the  speaker,  which  was  totally 
disregarded. 

"Will  be  prime  minister,"  contined  MacDaly. 
"And  Dr.  Brian  Camperdown,"  he  pronounced 
the  words  with  a  mischievous  relish  and  a  gasping 
emphasis,  "  will  be  chosen  by  the  sultana  as  her 
sultan." 

Deafening  and  violent  applause  broke  out,  for 
the  news  of  Stargarde's  engagement  to  Dr.  Camp- 
erdown had  spread  through  the  city  with  almost 
incredible  rapidity. 


II 


424 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


L. 


<*>■ 

''*! 


r 


. 


-    -  ^  - 


Hiii 


M 

1 '  1 

j^ 

■  i 

::'f ' 

1 

;  - 1 

1 
j 

i 

'it 
,1 

Blushing  slightly  she  noted  the  grim,  contented 
pride  displayed  on  Camperdown's  face,  then  lis- 
tened to  MacDaly,  who  was  hastening  on. 

"Oh,  what  a  mighty  change  will  be  In  that 
realm !  I  may  say  that  cruel  Turkey  will  be  di- 
vided and  subdivided  into  a  large  number  of  prov- 
inces and  that  a  parliament  will  be  produced  oy 
the  brilliant  ascendency  of  its  future  sultana." 

"Stick  to  your  text,  man,"  interpolated  Camper- 
down.  "We  don't  want  to  hear  nonsense  about 
Turkey.     Keep  to  Halifax." 

"  Now,  my  most  noble  and  illustrious  audience," 
uttered  MacDaly  suavely,  "  before  I  close,  may  I 
express  the  humble  hope  that  as  in  the  contingency 
of  future  events  we  may  not  all  of  us  ever  meet 
again  under  this  ardent  and  hospitable  roof,  yet 
we  may  confront  each  other  where  high  and  low 
society  are  also  not  visibly  recognized,  but  where 
all  who  are  immaculate  enough  to  get  there  get 
into  good  society,  where,  to  use  a  homely  and 
worldly  phrase.  Jack  is  as  good  as  his  master,  often- 
times better,  my  friends,  that  is,  if  poor  Jack  has 
got  a  depraved  individual  for  his  master,  as  many 
of  us  have.  Here,  in  this  most  noteworthy  family, 
where  again  to  use  a  domestic  and  wooden  prov- 
erb as  I  may  call  it,  signifying  that  every  tub 
must  stand  on  its  own  bottom,  poor  Jack  can  iiever 
hope  to  be  as  good  as  his  master,  for  he  has  been 
felicitous  enough  to  have  for  master  the  Lady  Star- 


MACDALY  S    LECTURE 


425 


:ontented 
then  lis- 

:  in  that 
ill  be  di- 
•  of  prov- 
duced  by 
ina." 

i  Camper- 
nse  about 

mdience," 
)se,  may  I 
mtingency 
ever  meet 
roof,  yet 
and  low 
but  where 
there  get 
imely  and 
iter,  often- 
Jack  has 
as  many 
:hy  family, 
iden  pfov- 
every  tub 
can  never 
has  been 
Lady  Star- 


garde  Turner,  who  always  speaks  in  the  most 
amply  persuasive  and  gentle  tones  to  her  inferiors 
at  all  times  and  who  is  bountiful  in  the  largeness 
of  her  heart  and  the  wonderful  magnificence  of 
her  nature." 

MacDaly  paused  here  to  bow  profoundly  to  Star- 
garde,  then  casting  an  observing  glance  upon  his 
amused  audience,  decided  that  a  further  dose  of. 
her  praises  would  be  acceptable. 

"  Before  exclaiming  farewell,"  he  said,  again  lash- 
ing himself  into  a  state  of  ardor,  **  let  me  ask  what 
further  thing  I  can  say  of  this  noble  lady  who  has 
tver  wielded  the  battle-axe  of  moral  suasion  on  Ije- 
half  of  helpless  and  attenuated  humanity.  Per- 
haps I  should  not  use  the  word  battle-axe  in  con- 
nection with  a  lady  of  such  refinement  who  has  so 
long  protected  the  weak,  fed  the  hungry  "  (here  he 
looked  over  his  manuscript  with  a  grin  and  said,  "  I 
can  prove  that "),  "  clothed  the  naked  "  (he  grinned 
again  and  said,  "  I  can  prove  that  too  ").  "  and  mag- 
nificently struck  out  for  the  right.  Therefore  trust- 
ing that  she  may  pardon  her  humble  and  obsequi- 
ous servant  when  he  says  that  the  mighty  things 
she  has  accomplished  have  struck  terror  into  the 
hearts  of  evil-doers,  comparatively  speaking,  and 
can  only  properly  be  compared  to  work  done  with 
an  axe — ^yea,  and  a  mighty  work  at  that.  In  con- 
clusion, I  may  say  that  I  hope  we  shall  meet  many 
times  more  in  health  and  wealth,  happiness  and 


ill 


I 


il 


'Uif 


Si  •] 


:i:  I 


426 


THE   HOUSE   OF    ARMOUR 


abundance  of  affectionate  recollections  of  our  past 
and  present  meetings.  So  farewell  for  the  present ; 
and  believe  me  to  be,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  your 
very  well-wishing  and  obliged  servant.  Derrick 
Edward  Fitz-James  O' Grady  MacDaly.  Thanks, 
very  much." 

The  lecturer  bowed,  put  his  manuscript  in  his 
pocket,  and  mingling  affably  with  his  hearers  re- 
ceived with  modesty  the  joking  .mpliments 
showered  upon  him. 

Stargarde  watched  him  in  intense  amusement 

"Why  is  he  fiddling  with  that  sword?"  asked 
Camperdown,  sauntering  up  to  her. 

"  Oh  the  entertainment  is  only  half  over,"  and 
she  framed  an  announcement  that  she  wished  him 
to  make. 

Camperdown  rose  and  proclaimed  in  a  stentorian 
voice,  "The  future  sultana  of  Turkey  orders  an  ex- 
hibition of  sword  exercise  by  Professor  MacDaly." 

Everybody  sat  down,  and  the  Irish  Nova  Scotian 
modestly  retiring  behind  the  reading  desk  from 
which  a  perfectly  clear  view  could  be  had  of  his 
proceedings,  stripped  off  his  red  jacket  and  drew 
his  sword  from  its  scabbard.  Striding  to  the 
middle  of  the  room  he  looked  in  Stargardc's  direc- 
tion, and  began  prancing  on  one  foot  and  then  on 
the  other  ejaculating,  "  Right  guard,  left  guard,  cut, 
thrust,  parry,"  etc.,  and  swinging  himself  backv/ard 
and  forward  with  such  startling  rapidity  that  the 


'tf^ 


MACDALY  S   LECTURE 


427 


our  past 

present ; 
len,  your 
,  Derrick 

Thanks, 

ipt  in  his 
earers  re- 
npliments 

sement 
i?"  asked 

)ver,"  and 
ished  him 

stentorian 
iers  an  ex- 
VlacDaly." 
iva  Scotian 
desk  from 
had  of  his 
;  and  drew 
ng    to   the 
rdc's  direc- 
nd  then  on 
guard,  cut, 
f  backv/ard 
ty  that  the 


lookers-on  were  obliged  to  tumble  into  corners  and 
nearly  fall  over  each  other  into  the  fire  to  avoid 
.vhat  seemed  to  be  an  avenging  weapon. 

It  was  a  frolic  for  MacDaly,  and  the  fun  grew 
fast  and  furious,  till  Stargarde,  noticing  Armour  shel- 
tering Vivienne  and  Judy  behind  a  heap  of  chairs, 
and  looking  as  if  he  thougnt  the  performance  a 
trifle  undignified,  gave  the  signal  to  stop. 

The  children  present  were  shrieking  with  laugh- 
ter, but  their  faces  were  sobered  when  the  door- 
keeper flung  the  startling  announcement  into  the 
room  that  the  candy  had  been  stolen  from  the 
veranda. 

"  Buy  more,"  exclaimed  Camperdown.  "  Off  to 
the  restaurant  with  you  !  Here's  money — and  order 
cake  and  coffee  for  the  grown-ups." 

MacDaly  approached  Stargarde  with  a  mincing 
step  and  murmured  something  about  his  confident 
audacity  that  would  seize  the  passing  moment. 

"Certainly,"  she  replied,  "but  coppers  only, 
ril  take  the  silver  away  from  you." 

The  delighted  man  accordingly  made  a  circuit 
of  the  room,  his  heart  gladdened  by  the  clash  of 
Canadian  cents  descending  into  the  capacious  re- 
ceptacle of  his  tall  hat 

Upon  the  arrival  of  the  refreshments  a  time  of 
feasting  began  in  the  kitchen.  The  soldiers,  with 
the  efficiency  of  trained  waiters,  took  charge  of  the 
coffee  and  cake.    The  children  revolved  huge  lumps 


i 


t 


M 


P  s 


(J 


•f. 


I' 
II'  1 ' 


t 

1  f 


I 


f    ' 


!!!!!  ! 


iii 


ii 


428 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


of  taffy  in  their  mouths,  and  Armour  with  some- 
thing like  dismay  watched  the  alarming  disposition 
of  sweets  by  the  aged  granny. 

Stargarde  was  just  about  to  send  the  rioting  chil- 
dren bedward,  when  her  attention  was  attracted  by 
a  commotion  at  the  door. 

Camperdown  sprang  up,  but  he  was  too  late. 
What  he  had  dreaded  for  weeks,  with  an  agony  of 
shame  and  dread,  had  come  to  pass.  Of  no  avail 
now  his  lavish  bribes  and  ceaseless  supervision. 

The  astonished  doorkeeper  had  received  a  blow 
on  the  chest,  and  had  gone  spinning  into  a  corner 
of  the  fireplace,  whence  he  skipped  nimbly  and 
stared  at  his  assailant ;  tattered,  unspeakably  dirty, 
Mrs.  Frispi,  who  towered  in  the  doorway  wrathful 
and  menacing,  mumbling  something  in  a  drunken 
fury  at  him,  which  no  one  understood. 

With  a  low,  joyful  cry  Stargarde  sprang  up  and 
went  to  her.  At  last  the  woman  had  come  to  the 
Pavilion  of  her  own  accord. 

"  You  be  a  beauty,  bain't  you  ?  "  said  the  woman 
thickly,  "barrin*  the  door  to  yer  own  mother." 

Stargarde  did  not  quite  catch  her  words.  Camp- 
erdown did,  and  tried  to  draw  hxsfiaftcee  back. 

"  No,  Brian,"  she  said  firmly.  "  I  have  waited 
a  long  time  for  this.    Let  uc  get  her  in  by  the  fire." 

Close  at  the  woman's  heels,  like  a  cowed,  sulky 
dog,  walked  the  small  man,  her  husband.  "  Come 
in  too,"  said  Stargarde,  extending  a  hand  to  him. 


MACDALY  S    LECTURE 


429 


th  some- 
isposition 

>ting  chil- 
racted  by 

too  late. 

agony  of 
f  no  avail 
^rision. 
ed  a  blow 
D  a  corner 
imbly  and 
ably  dirty, 
f  wrathful 
a  drunken 

ig  up  and 
)me  to  the 

the  woman 
)ther." 
Is.    Camp- 
back, 
ave  waited 
y  the  fire." 
wed,  sulky 
1.     "  Come 
nd  to  him. 


"We  be  turned  out,"  he  said,  with  a  cover', 
glance  about  the  room,  and  hanging  his  head  as  if 
the  bright  light  hurt  his  eyes.  "  No  money  ;  big 
man  say,  *  You  go  to  de  streeta.' " 

The  woman  in  exasperation  at  the  withdrawal  of 
attention  from  her,  seized  Stargarde  by  the  shoul- 
der, "Don't  you  hear?"  she  gasped  hoarsely. 
* '  I — be — ^your — mother. ' ' 

The  words  were  audible,  though  indistinct.  A 
surprised,  incredulous  look  overspread  Stargarde's 
beautiful  face.  "  Brian,"  she  said,  turning  to  him 
as  if  she  could  not  trust  the  evidence  of  her  own 
sense  of  hearing,  "what  does  she  say?" 

He  would  not  repeat  the  words,  but  in  his 
ashamed,  mortified  face  she  received  confirmation 
of  her  own  half-bom  idea. 

"  My  mother ! "  she  exclaimed,  still  in  a  dazed 
state  of  semi-belief;  "m^'  mother  that  I  have 
searched  for  so  long  ! " 

"  Yes  ;  you  be  my  daughter,  and  what  be  daugh- 
ters for  but  to  work  for  their  mothers?"  snarled 
Mrs.  Frispi,  suddenly  collapsing  and  sinking  into  a 
chair.  "And — who's  that?  "  she  stammered,  turn- 
ing her  swollen,  distorted  face  toward  Stanton  Ar- 
mour, who  stood  in  handsome,  deathly  pallor,  and 
as  motionless  as  a  statue  beyond  her. 

"  Oh,  my  God  ! "  and  mouthing,  swearing,  un- 
utterably foul  and  repulsive,  she  groveled  from  her 
chair  to  the  floor. 


m 


il 


430 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"  Oh,  tell  me,  some  one,"  cried  Stargarde  wildly, 
"  what  is  it  she  says  ?     Is  it  true  ?  " 

**It  be  true,"  said  Frispi  eagerly.  Then  step- 
ping fonvard  he  plunged  his  hand  among  the  rags 
over  his  wife's  broad  chest  and  withdrew  a  filthy 
envelope,  out  of  which  he  drew  a  photograph  that 
he  handed  to  Stargarde. 

It  was  a  picture  of  Mi's.  Frispi,  taken  in  her 
palmy  days.  Stargarde  laid  a  hand  on  her  own 
fluttering  breast.  There  was  a  counterpart  of  this 
florid,  sensuous  face  that  she  had  treasured  for 
years. 

She  drew  out  her  own  photograph.  It  was  ex- 
actly like  the  other ;  her  intense  blue  eyes  darted  to 
the  floor.  There  in  that  tall  form,  in  the  evil  face, 
she  could  see  a  faint,  disfigured  likeness  to  herself 

"  O  God,  I  thank  thee ! "  she  said,  and  fell  on 
her  knees  to  put  her  arms  about  the  degraded 
creature  before  her. 

Where  was  the  terror,  the  repulsion,  the  anguish 
that  the  sight  was  to  cause  her?  Camperdown 
gazed  at  her  in  distracted  astonishment,  then  hope- 
lessly surveyed  the  hushed,  motionless  ring  of  peo- 
ple beyond  them. 

"Brian,"  said  Stargarde,  in  tones  of  ineffable 
love,  "we  must  take  her  home." 

At  the  first  shock  of  her  words,  he  started  back 
with  a  gesture  of  utter  detestation.  He  loved  her, 
but  he  could  not  touch  her  mother. 


macdaly's  lecture 


de  wildly, 

["hen  step- 
g  the  rags 
w  a  filthy 
graph  that 

en  in  her 
1  her  own 
art  of  this 
asured  for 


431 


Then  he  sprang  forward,  but  he  was  too  late. 
Neither  disappointed  nor  surprised  by  his  refusal, 
Stargarde  gathered  the  loathsome  and  disgraceful 
specimen  of  fallen  womanhood  to  her  own  tender 
bosom,  and  lovingly  enwrapping  it  in  her  arms 
went  out  in  the  night 


It  was  ex- 
s  darted  to 
e  evil  face, 
to  herself 
nd  fell  on 
:  degraded 

:he  anguish 
imperdown 
then  hope- 
ing  of  peo- 

)f  ineffable 

tarted  back 
5  loved  her, 


'i 

1 


CHAPTER  XXXII 


HE    KISSED    HER    AND    PROMISED 


THE  spring  was  long,  cold,  and  trying.     The 
sun    shone    brightly,    but    the    north    wind 
sweeping   over   the    ice-fields  in  the  Gulf  of  St 
Lawrence  breathed  chill  and  disconsolate  on  shiv- 
ering Nova  Scotia  until  well  into  May. 

Then  to  the  great  delight  of  the  robins,  that  had 
come  back  rather  earlier  than  usual,  and  had  been 
greeted  by  a  snowstorm,  there  was  a  change  in  the 
weather.  One  leap  and  they  were  into  the  jolly 
summer,  clad  in  his  "cassock  colored  green,"  and 
having  on  his  head  a  garland.  Swelling  tree-buds, 
bursting  flowers,  and  universal  greenness  prevailed. 
During  the  latter  part  of  May,  energetic  work 
was  carried  on  in  field  and  garden  in  preparation 
for  the  brief  but  lovely  season  which  lasts  in  the 
seaside  province  through  June,  July,  and  August, 
until  the  golden  days  of  September  ^nd  October 
come. 

The  twenty-first  of  June  is  the  natal  day  of  Hal- 
ifax, and  on  this  day  an  annual  concert  is  held  in 
the  lovely  Public  Gardens.     The  flower  beds  are 
roped  off,  electric  lights  shine  far  overhead  among 
432 


HE    KISSED    HER   AND    PROMISED 


433 


ing.  The 
orth  wind 
ulf  of  St 
te  on  shiv- 

is,  that  had 
i  had  been 
ange  in  the 
o  the  jolly 
rreen,"  and 
r  tree-buds, 
s  prevailed, 
getic  work 
^reparation 
lasts  in  the 
ind  August, 
,nd  October 

day  of  Hal- 
rt  is  held  in 
er  beds  are 
lead  among 


the  treetops,  and  lines  of  Chinese  lanterns  and  rows 
of  torches  glow  nearer  the  earth.  Two  or  three 
military  bands  play  favorite  airs  to  thousands  of 
people,  who  saunter  to  and  fro  listening  to  the 
music,  haunting  ice-cream  booths,  or  watching  the 
effect  of  fireworks  set  off  from  a  small  island  in  the 
center  of  a  pond  from  which  unhappy  ducks  and 
geese  fly,  quacking  and  gabbling  their  disapproval 
of  proceedings  so  disturbing. 

From  one  of  these  annual  concerts  held  on  a 
perfect  June  night,  Mrs.  Colonibel,  Vivienne,  Judy, 
and  Mr.  Armour  were  returning.  Judy,  exhausted 
by  much  walking  to  and  fro  on  the  Garden  paths, 
had  fallen  asleep  in  the  carriage  with  her  head  on 
Armour's  shoulder.  Mrs.  Colonibel  and  Vivienne 
sat  with  faces  upturned  to  the  dull  blue  of  the  sky 
listening,  the  one  absently  the  other  intently,  to 
Armour's  description  of  the  wonderful  Wolf-Rayet 
stars. 

His  voice  was  calm  and  measured,  yet  Vivienne 
had  known  all  the  evening  that  something  had 
happened  to  worry  him.  When  they  reached  the 
house,  and  Mrs.  Colonibel  and  Judy  went  upstairs, 
she  lingered  an  instant  as  she  said  "Good-night." 

There  was  no  response  to  her  glance  of  inquiry. 
Whatever  his  trouble  was  he  had  resolved  not  to 
impart  it  to  her,  and  she  slowly  proceeded  to  her 
room,  and  putting  aside  her  hat,  sank  on  a  heap  of 
cushions  by  her  open  window  and  looked  out  in 

2C 


434 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


the  direction  of  the  Arm,  which  lay  like  a  dull, 
solid  expanse  of  crystal  at  the  foot  of  its  lines  of 
wooded  hills. 

It  was  a  dark  night,  and  she  could  see  nothing 
very  distinctly.  There  was  a  slight  murmur  in  the 
pines  about  the  house,  but  beyond  that  the  stillness 
was  perfect.  Her  thoughts  were  on  the  cottage, 
though  she  could  see  nothing  of  it  Things  were 
not  going  well  there.  Valentine  had  finally  taken 
up  his  abode  with  his  father,  and  they  rarely  saw 
him  up  at  the  larger  house.  This  evening  Vivienne 
knew  that  Colonel  Armour  was  entertaining  some 
of  his  friends.  Probably  that  was  the  cause  of 
the  shadow  on  her  lover's  brow,  for  she  knew  that 
he  strongly  disapproved  of  his  father's  midnight 
parties. 

"  Then  why  does  he  not  say  that  they  shall  not 
take  place?"  she  uttered  half  aloud,  as  she  thought 
of  the  burdens  t!  \t  Stanton  Armour  was  obliged 
to  carry.  *'  I  would  not  endure  it  were  I  in  his 
place." 

"A  woman  only  has  power  over  Ephraim  to 
weep  and  implore  and  make  supplication  unto 
him,"  said  a  voice  behind  her. 

Vivienne  scarcely  turned  her  head.  She  had  be- 
come fully  accustomed  to  having  Mammy  Juniper 
creep  upon  her  at  all  times  and  seasons.  Ever 
since  the  day  that  the  old  Negro  woman  had  seen 
Stanton  Armour's  magnificent  diamond  ring  flash- 


HE    KISSED    HER   AND    PROMISED 


435 


e  a  dull, 
i  lines  of 

e  nothing 
nur  in  the  ^ 
le  stillness 
e  cottage, 
lings  were 
lally  taken 
rarely  saw 
g  Vivienne 
ning  some 
I  cause   of 
knew  that 
s  midnight 

y  shall  not 

le  thought 

/as  obliged 

re  I  in  his 

^phraim  to 
:ation   unto 

he  had  be- 
my  Juniper 
ons.  Ever 
m  had  seen 
i  ring  flash- 


ing upon  Vivienne's  finger  she  had  changed  her 
tactics  with  regard  to  her.  The  girl  was  to  be 
taken  into  the  family,  hence  she  must  be  treated 
with  respect,  and  strange  to  say,  in  a  very  short 
time  she  was  as  much  fascinated  by  Vivienne,  and 
as  completely  under  her  influence,  as  she  had  for- 
merly been  antagonistic  and  threatening  to  her. 
Her  insane  prejudice,  which  had  been  largely  a 
matter  of  duty,  entirely  passed  away.  The  girl's 
slight  imperiousness  exercised  the  same  charm  over 
the  Maroon  woman's  half-crazed  mind  that  it  did 
over  Joe's  stolid  one,  and  she  followed  her  v"' 
mistress  about  with  offers  of  service  and  petitions 
for  the  privilege  of  performing  some  of  her  ancient 
duties  of  lady's  maid,  that  sometimes  amused  and 
sometimes  annoyed  Vivienne. 

To-night  she  stood  motionless  for  some  time  be- 
side the  reclining  figure,  then  seeing  that  the  girl 
did  not  wish  to  be  disturbed,  moved  softly  about 
the  room,  turning  up  the  wicks  of  the  different 
lamps,  arranging  the  furniture  and  gathering  up 
books  and  papers,  till  finally  coming  back  to  Vivi- 
enne, she  saw  that  she  had  fallen  asleep. 

Deftly,  and  with  a  gentle  touch,  the  woman  drew 
out  the  large  pins  that  confined  the  girl's  hair,  and 
allowed  it  to  fall  in  a  dusky  mass  over  her  shoul- 
ders, then  dropping  a  rug  over  her  sat  down  and 
watched  her. 

"To-day  the  chaff" driven  by  the  whirlwind  came 


436 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


V 


A. 


Q  u 


into  my  room,"  she  muttered,  "and  the  doves  went 
mourning  about  the  house.  The  anger  of  the  Lord 
is  about  to  come  upon  us ;  woe  to  him  that  sets  his 
nest  on  high.  Shall  they  not  rise  up  suddenly  that 
shall  bite  thee?  Ephraim  has  brought  shame  to 
his  house  by  cutting  off  many  people.  For  the 
stone  shall  cry  out  to  the  wall  and  the  beam  out 
of  the  timber  shall  answer  it.  Woe  to  him  that 
buildeth  a  house  with  blood." 

The  night  wore  on  and  Vivienne,  undisturbed  by 
Mammy  Juniper's  mutterings,  still  slept.  There 
was  no  sound  to  break  the  deathly  stillness  inside 
and  outside  the  house,  till  shortly  after  one  o'clock 
the  girl  started  up  with  a  low  cry  of  "  Stanton  ! " 

Mammy  Juniper  went  over  to  her.  "Awake, 
my  princess,  the  hour  of  the  Lord  is  at  hand." 

Vivienne's  dazed  glance  took  in  the  black  figure 
standing  over  her,  the  bright  lamps  of  the  room, 
the  darkness  outside,  then  she  shuddered.  "  I 
have  had  a  distressing  dream.  Is  Mr.  Armour 
here?     I  thought  that  he  was  hurt." 

"  Mourn  not  for  the  elder  but  for  the  younger 
branch,  O  princess,"  chanted  the  old  woman. 
"  Ephraim  is  a  proud  man.  He  transgresseth  by 
wine,  neither  keepeth  at  home.  H^  er  argtLi.  his 
desire  as  hell  and  as  death,  that  ot  be  satis- 

fied." 

"Hush,  Mammy,"  said  Vivienne. 

"  Can  you  not  hear  the  feet  of  him  that  bringeth 


HE    KISSED    HER    AND    PROMISED 


437 


oves  went 
"  the  Lord 
at  sets  his 
denly  that 

shame  to 
For  the 

beam  out 
0  him  that 

sturbed  by 
pt.  There 
ness  inside 
one  o'clock 
tanton!" 
*<  Awake, 

hand." 
black  figure 
the  room, 
Idered.     "  I 
Mr.  Armour 

the  younger 
old  woman, 
isgresseth  by 


er  argccii 


his 


,ot  be  satis- 


that  bringeth 


bad  tidings?"  rejoined  the  woman.  "Howl,  O 
fir  trees,  for  the  lofty  cedar  has  fallen — howl,  ye 
oaks  of  Bashan,  for  the  forest  of  the  vintage  has 
come  down.  Woe,  woe  to  him  that  buildetli  a 
house  with  blood  !  " 

Vivienne  shuddered  again,  and  to  avoid  looking 
at  the  blending  of  wrath  and  suffering  on  Mammy's 
ugly  face,  leaned  far  out  of  the  window.  Down  in 
the  direction  of  the  cottage  a  sudden  confused 
noise  had  arisen,  followed  a  few  seconds  later  by  a 
sound  of  footsteps  hurrying  over  the  walk  to  the 
house.  She  listened  intently  till  the  person  below 
came  up  to  the  veranda  steps  and  rattled  a  key  in 
the  door  of  the  back  hall.  "  There  must  be  some- 
thing wrong  at  the  cottage,"  she  said,  getting  up 
and  walking  across  the  room,  "  and  that  is  Joe." 

**  Joe  goes  as  a  snake  by  the  way,  my  princess," 
said  Mammy  seizing  a  lamp  and  following  her.  "  It 
is  Vincent." 

Vivienne  went  out  into  the  hall  and  looked  down 
over  the  railing  of  the  circular  opening  at  the  night- 
light  burning  outside  Armour's  door. 

Vincent  was  coming  quietly  upstairs.  His  feet 
made  no  sound  in  passing  over  the  thick  carpet 
and  he  had  only  to  tap  at  Mr.  Armour's  door  to 
have  it  thrown  open  to  him. 

He  said  'a  few  words  in  a  low  voice  that  they 
could  not  hear,  then  disappeared  as  quickly  as  he 
had    come.       In   a   very    few    minutes    Armour 


'■-^-  tv 


'    .  :'V 


iniii 


438 


THE   HOUSE   OF  ARMOUR 


emerged  from  his  room,  thrusting  his  arms  into  his 
coat  as  he  hurried  after  his  servant. 

"  O  Ephraim,  he  that  dasheth  in  pieces  is  come 
up  before  thy  face,"  mumbled  Mammy  Juniper  in 
a  choking  voice.  **  Keep  the  munitions,  watch  the 
wav ! " 

"What  is  it?"  exclaimed  Vivienne ;  "what  has 
happened  ?     You  speak  knowingly." 

The  old  woman  suddenly  became  calm.  "Come 
and  see,"  she  said  quietly. 

Vivienne  followed  her  down  the  sta'-case.  The 
house  was  intensely  still.  No  other  persons  were 
stirring.  When  they  reached  the  lowest  hall  Vivi- 
enne paused.  "  Mammy,  I  shall  not  go  down  there 
among  those  men.  Do  you  go  and  bring  me  back 
news  of  what  has  happened." 

Mammy  looked  at  her  regretfully.  "The  Assyr- 
ians led  by  Ephraim  bring  reproach  upon  them- 
selves. Only  a  princess  of  the  house  can  warn  and 
deliver." 

"I  know  what  you  mean,"  said  the  girl  proudly; 
"but  I  cannot  be  sensational.  I  will  speak  to 
your  master.  Now  go  and  see  if  you  can  be  of 
any  use." 

She  walked  into  the  dining  room,  and  the  old 
servant  carefully  placing  the  lamp  in  the  middle  of 
the  long  table,  left  her  alone. 

There  was  a  clock  on  the  mantelpiece,  and  with 
a  dull  and  heavy  sense  of  apprehension  Vivienne 


HE   KISSED    HER   AND    PROMISED 


439 


watched  the  hands  scarcely  moving  over  its  face. 
Twenty,  thirty,  forty  minutes  passed,  and  still 
Mammy  did  not  come. 

At  the  end  of  that  time  there  was  a  step  in  the 
hall  and  she  hurried  to  the  «Joor  to  be  confronted 
by  Stanton  Armour. 

"Are  you  here,  Vivienne?  "  he  asked  in  a  kind 
of  subdued  surprise. 

"Yes,"  and  she  anxiously  scanned  his  gloomy, 
dispirited  face. 

"You  had  better  go  to  bed.  Why  did  you  get 
up?" 

"  I  had  not  gone  to  bed.  I  fell  asleep  by  my 
window  after  I  came  home,  and  waked  up  when  I 
heard  Vincent  coming  for  you." 

He  made  no  reply  and  she  went  on  :  "  What  was 
the  trouble,  Stanton  ?  " 

"Valentine  got  himself  into  a  scrape." 

"That  unhappy  boy !"  she  said  mournfully. 

"  Do  not  worry,"  said  Mr.  Armour,  trying  to  clear 
his  face,  "  it  may  not  be  so  bad  as  we  think." 

"How  bad  is  it?  why  do  you  hesitate?"  she 
said  in  a  low,  disturbed  voice. 

"  I  do  not  like  to  tell  you  disagreeable  things, 
Vivienne." 

"Am  I  a  doll  or  a  child  that  I  can  endure 
nothing?  I  do  not  like  to  be  so  treated,  Stanton. 
What  was  Valentine  doing?  " 

"You  know  that  he  has  been  drinking  lately?" 


d 


i  .; 


-I  ■ 


it.  > 

1 


( 


II 


i 


1 

1 

1 

1 

' 

'   i 

t 

!. 

440 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"Yes." 

"This  evening  when  my  father  and  his  guests 
were  at  supper  Valentine  came  in  and  made  some 
remarks  that  they  considered  insulting." 

"Indeed!" 

"And  they  drove  him  into  a  corner,  and  some 
one  threw  a  wineglass  at  him ;  I  hate  to  tell  you 
this,  Vivien  ne." 

"That  is  no  surprise  to  me." 

"They  had  all  been  drinking,"  he  went  on  a  little 
doggedly ;  "  and  in  some  way  or  other  they  have 
hurt  Valentine's  eyes.  I  fancy  that  he  continued 
to  be  irritating,  as  he  knows  well  how  to  be,  and 
they  continued  shying  wineglasses  at  him.  They 
didn't  mean  to  hurt  him." 

"And  Vincent  heard  them  and  came  for  you  to 
break  up  this  pleasant  party?" 

"Yes." 

"  How  are  they  leaving  here  ?  " 

"Vincent  is  driving  them." 

"  And  he  is  taken  from  his  rest  to  do  so  ? " 

"Yes,  unavoidably  so." 

"  Have  you  sent  for  Dr.  Camperdown  ? ' 

"I  have." 

"And  Mammy  Juniper  is  with  Valentine?" 

"She  is." 

"  And  you  are  half  annoyed  with  me  for  coming 
down,"  she  said,  seizing  a  handful  of  her  long, 
hanging  hair  and  pushing  it  back  from  her  face. 


<%9I 


HE    KISSED    HER    AND    PROMISED 


441 


is  guests 
ide  some 


md  some 
tell  you 


on  a  little 
they  have 
continued 
0  be,  and 
m.     They 

for  you  to 


o?" 


f 


.^5»» 


le? 

jr  coming 
her  long, 
r  face. 


"  No,  only  worried  about  Valentine." 

"  Is  there  nothing  more  than  that  ?  " 

"  Nothing  more  that  I  care  to  tell  you,"  he  said 
evasively. 

"You  are  pale,  you  suffer,"  she  said  in  a  low 
voice. 

He  gently  put  back  her  masses  of  perfumed  hair 
so  that  he  might  see  her  face  more  distinctly. 

"What  a  simpleton  I  used  to  be,"  she  suddenly 
exclaimed  ;  "so  young,  so  deplorably  ignorant !" 

"  Why  do  you  say  this  ?  " 

"  Because  I  thought  that  engaged  people  entered 
upon  a  dream  of  bliss  ;  while  you — the  more  inti- 
mately I  know  you  the  higher  rises  some  dreadful, 
dreadful  barrier  between  us.  Stanton,  tell  me,  tell 
me  why  you  are  so  moody  and  restless  with  me 
lately?     Do  you  not  wish  to  marry  me? " 

He  stooped  and  kissed  her  lustrous  eyes.  "You 
are  mine,  mine,"  he  repeated  in  accents  of  re- 
pressed passion.  "  Would  to  God  that  you  were 
my  wife  now." 

"  I  feel  like  a  restless  wave  beating  against  a 
rock,"  she  said  mournfully.  "Am  I  never  to  share 
your  troubles?  " 

The  hand  resting  on  her  shoulder  trembled,  and 
she  saw  that  he  was  wavering  in  his  hitherto  fixed 
resolve  not  to  confide  in  her. 

"  Now — now,"  she  said  eagerly  ;  "  tell  me  to- 
night.    If  you  love  me,  trust  me." 


i 


Ml 

» 1  ' 


I  ! 


!h 


442 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"I  am  racked  with  anxiety,"  he  muttered. 
"What  you  ask  me  to  do  is  the  right  thing,  yet 
you  may  shrink  from  me ;   you  may  never  many 


me. 


M 


"Have  you  ever  done  anything  dishonorable 
yourself?  " 

"  No ;  but  I  have  shielded  my  own  flesh  and 
blood ;  more  from  instinct  than  from  affection,  per- 
haps, I  have  done  it" 

"Then  I  will  never  give  you  up,"  she  mur- 
mured. 

Her  beseeching  arms  were  around  his  neck  and 
he  could  no  longer  resist.  In  halting  accents,  that 
were  sometimes  angty,  sometimes  ashamed,  he  told 
her  all  she  *vished  to  know,  and  she  listened,  still 
clinging  to  him,  but  with  her  hair  bound  about  her 
face  so  that  he  could  not  see  its  expression. 

When  he  finished  she  drew  a  long  sigh,  and  he 
found  that  she  was  crying. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "are  we  to  be  husband  and 
wife,  or  must  we  separate  ?  " 

"We  shall  never  separate,  if  it  rests  with  me," 
she  said  gently.  "  But  why,  oh,  why  did  you  dis- 
like my  mother?" 

"  I  will  make  it  up  to  the  daughter,"  he  said,  and 
vehemently.  "  Can  you  not  see,  Vivienne,  that  if 
things  had  not  been  as  they  were  I  would  have 
been  spared  my  worst  anxiety? " 

"I   am   so   shocked  at  the  wickedness  of  the 


HE   KISSED    HER   AND    PROMISED 


443 


muttered, 
thing,  yet 
ver  many 

ihonorable 

flesh  and 
ction,  per- 

she  mur- 

s  neck  and 

ccents,  that 

led,  he  told 

ttned,  still 

about  her 

ion. 

gh,  and  he 

isband  and 

with  me," 
lid  you  dis- 

he  said,  and 
nne,  that  if 
would  have 

less  of  the 


world,"  she  said,  "so  shocked!  I  never  dreamed 
of  it  when  I  was  at  school." 

"Yes,"  he  said  gloomily,  "it  is  a  bad  world." 

"But  there  is  much  goodness,"  she  went  on 
with  a  sudden  radiance  of  face;  "and  I  am  not  one 
to  say  that  the  world  becomes  worse  instead  of 
better." 

His  face  brightened.  "Yes,  men  and  women 
do  each  other  good  as  well  as  a  frightful  amount 
of  evil." 

"And  you  feel  better  for  telling  me  this,  do  you 
not?" 

"  Yes ;  I  have  been  carrying  on  a  wearisome 
struggle  these  last  few  weeks.  You  will  preserve 
my  confidence.  There  is  no  one  else  to  whom  I 
talk  ;  no  one  who  knows  me.  You,  my  dear  inno- 
cent lamb,"  and  he  suddenly  became  loverlike  and 
tender,  "are  the  only  being  in  the  world  that  under- 
stands me." 

"You  will  find  my  father  for  me?"  she  said 
softly. 

"  If  it  is  a  possible  thing ;  there  is  no  news  yet." 

"And  when  he  comes  you  will  try  to  clear  him? 
Yet  stay,  Stanton ;  can  you  do  nothing  in  his  ab- 
sence ?  " 

"  I  scarcely  think  so." 

"  Is  there  no  one  who  knows  ?  What  about 
Mammy  Juniper  and  MacDaly,  who  talk  so 
strangely  about  your  father?     You  are  silent.     Re- 


;^- 


m 


444 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


member,  Stanton,  I  too  have  a  father.  Tell  me, 
would  you  clear  him  to-morrow  if  you  could,  though 
at  the  expense  of  disgracing  your  own  parent?  " 

*'Yes,  I  would,"  he  said. 

"That  is  enough,"  she  said  in  a  low,  intense 
voice.  "  Have  no  more  scruples  about  marrying 
me.     I  take  the  responsibility." 

She  gave  him  her  hand  like  a  princess,  and  leav- 
ing him  standing,  a  lonely  figure  in  the  half -lighted 
room,  went  toward  the  hall  to  Mammy  Juniper, 
who  was  waiting  for  her. 

He  stood  for  some  time  after  her  departure, 
staring  at  the  floor,  till  he  heard  in  abrupt  language  : 

"Where  is  Mammy  Juniper?" 

"She  is  upstairs,"  and  he  lifted  his  head  to  see 
Camperdown  pawing  the  hall  carpet  like  an  impa- 
tient horse. 

"  I  want  some  linen,  and  I  wish  that  she  would 
come  down  to  the  cottage.  By  the  way,  Stanton," 
and  he  paused  as  he  was  about  to  fling  himself  out 
of  the  doorway,  "  how  much  longer  are  you  going 
to  let  this  thing  run  on?  Fristram  and  Shelly  were 
here  this  evening  gambling  with  your  worthy  sire  ; 
the  young  scamps  ought  to  have  been  at  home  with 
their  wives." 

"I  know,"  wearily;  "but  what  can  a  man  do? 
I  am  reproached  now  with  having  thrust  my  father 
out  of  doors." 

"  Nobody  that  understood  the  facts  would  blame 


HE    KISSED    HER   AND    PROMISED 


445 


you,"  said  Camperdown  seriously.  "  But  can't  you 
hedge  him  around  with  restrictions?" 

"  If  I  draw  too  sharp  a  line  he  will  leave  here." 

"And  you  don't  want  him  injuring  the  family 
reputation  elsewhere.  But  isn't  there  any  way  you 
can  devise  of  keeping  these  silly  young  flies  from 
him?  Let  him  amuse  himself  with  old  spiders  like 
himself" 

"  He  must  do  it  in  future,"  said  Armour. 

"Who  made  you  promise?"  asked  Camperdown 
curiously. 

"Vivienne." 

"  I  thought  so  ;  good  little  girl !" 

"  I  have  decided  to  send  Valentine  away  till  after 
our  marriage,"  said  Armour;  "can  you  suggest  any 
one  to  go  with  him  ?  " 

Camperdown  frowned,  hesitated,  and  muttered  : 
"  Better  wait  a  bit." 

"You  do  not  think  that  his  eyes  are  seriously 
injured,  do  you  ?  "  said  Armour  quickly. 

"  I  think  nothing,  and  what  I  know  I'll  keep  to 
myself,"  and  Camperdown  again  made  an  attempt 
to  leave  the  room,  but  turned  on  his  heel  to  come 
back  and  say,  "Your  ancestors  were  Puritans, 
weren't  they?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Strictest  of  the  strict  and  fastidious  about  Sun- 
days, and  would  scarcely  smile  on  week  days?  " 

"Yes." 


i 


p 


'  >y 


f 

1                 'l 

( 

H 

iiiii 

if 

ii 

'1 

1      ■ 

i 

446 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


¥1 


"  And  they  grew  rich  and  were  high  in  favor  with 
God  and  man?" 

"So  the  family  history  assures  us." 

"  Then  they  waxed  self-indulgent.  Your  great- 
grandfather began  a  merry  dance  that  is  culminat- 
ing with  your  father  and  Valentine,  and  you — poor, 
dull,  and  misanthropic  clod — would  dry  up  and 
sterilize  but  for  that  lovely  little  simpleton  upstairs, 
who  is  probably  dreaming  that  you  are  a  Prince 
Charming." 

An  indescribable  air  of  animation  took  posses- 
sion of  Armour's  heavy,  handsome  features.  "She 
probably  is,"  he  said  with  a  smile. 

"If  you've  any  sense  at  all,"  continued  Camper- 
down  with  assumed  disdain,  "  if  you've  any  idea  of 
perpetuating  a  decent  family  line,  agree  to  anything 
she  says.  In  her  fine-spun,  aristocratic,  philanthropic 
notions,  which  are  strictly  opposed  to  all  that  is 
earthly,  sensual,  and  devilish,  is  your  only  salvation." 
And  with  a  volley  of  menacing  glances  he  vanished, 
and  shortly  afterward  crunched  under  foot  the 
gravel  below  as  he  walked  toward  the  cottage 
muttering :  "  Blind,  blind  !  Poor  fools,  how  will 
they  stand  it?     Better  Puritans  than  Sybarites!" 


•itf 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 


A  WAYWORN   TRAVELER 


FOR  eight  weary  weeks  Stargarde  had,  in  the 
opinion  of  her  friends,  been  afflicted  by  the 
terrible  being  who  undoubtedly  was  her  mother. 
But  to  Stargarde  it  was  no  affliction.  From  the 
night  that  she  had  taken  the  miserable  creature  in 
her  arms,  washed  and  fed  her  and  laid  her  on  her 
own  bed,  it  had  seemed  rather  a  joy  and  privilege 
than  a  duty,  to  wait  upon  her.  Cheerfully  and  un- 
complainingly she  placed  herself  at  the  disposal  of 
her  unworthy  parent,  guarding  and  restraining  her 
as  far  as  she  possibly  could,  and  making  no  ado 
when  she  was  missing,  but  patiently  seeking  her  in 
the  lowest  haunts  of  the  town  as  a  shepherd  would 
seek  a  lost  sheep  and  return  it  to  the  sheepfold. 

After  Mrs.  Frispi  had  been  with  Stargarde  for 
four  weeks  her  wanderings  suddenly  ceased.  Her 
evil  genius  might  prompt  her  to  roam,  but  it  was 
no  longer  in  her  power  to  do  so.  Her  frame, 
strong  as  it  had  been,  suddenly  yielded  to  the 
effects  of  disease  brought  on  by  her  irregular  life. 
She  lay  on  her  back  in  Stargarde* s  bed  with  no 
thought  in  her  guilty  soul  of  preparing  for  that 

447 


:'  1  y 


w 

i 


M  \]  y 


I  I 


'i 


ft; 


. .? 


h'u 


w 


IV  til    ■   •    .' 

■3 


448 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


longer,  more  mysterious  flight  than  any  she  had  yet 
taken,  but  raving  day  by  day  in  obscene  and  abom- 
inable language  that  made  Camperdown  look  in 
despair  and  admiration  at  Stargarde,  who  in  an 
agony  of  compassion  hung  over  the  unhappy  woman 
and  urged  her  to  repent. 

Day  by  day  he  entered  the  sick-room,  sometimes 
greeted  sullenly  by  the  sufferer,  at  others  hailed  by 
a  torrent  of  abuse  that  made  him  turn  from  her 
with  a  shudder  of  disgust ;  but  gradually  there  came 
a  change.  During  the  past  ten  days  his  patient 
had  lain  in  a  sullen,  stoical  silence,  apparently  in- 
different alike  to  her  sufferings  and  to  Stargarde's 
tender  ministrations.  That  she  used  no  more  reck- 
less language  was  something  to  be  thankful  for,  and 
with  a  sense  of  relief  to  think  that  he  was  no  longer 
in  the  den  of  a  wild  beast,  Camperdown  stepped 
into  the  room  one  Sunday  morning. 

He  held  his  fia7icee^s  hand  one  instant  in  his  own, 
then  went  to  the  bed  and  glanced  sharply  over  Mrs. 
Frispi's  attenuated  features.  She  did  not  look  at 
him,  even  when  he  laid  his  fingers  on  her  bony 
wrist,  for  her  big  blue  eyes,  slowly  revolving  in  their 
sunken  sockets,  were  following  Stargarde  as  she 
moved  about  the  room. 

"  Let  me  take  your  temperature,"  he  said. 

Mrs.  Frispi  shook  her  head  impatiently. 

"Mother,"  murmured  Stargarde  appealingly, 
coming  to  stand  beside  her. 


A   WAYWORN    TRAVELER 


449 


le  had  yet 
ind  abom- 
n  look  in 
vho  in  an 
py  woman 

sometimes 
1  hailed  by 

from  her 
there  came 
tiis  patient 
larently  in- 
^targarde's 
more  reck- 
ful  for,  and 

no  longer 
m  stepped 


in  his  own, 
r  over  Mrs. 
ot  look  at 
her  bony 
ng  in  their 
•de  as  she 

said. 

y- 

ppealingly, 


At  this  the  woman  submitted,  and  when  she 
turned  her  head  toward  Camperdown  he  noticed 
that  a  softened  look  had  overspread  her  features, 
and  that  tears  were  stealing  down  her  checks. 

In  order  to  give  her  time  to  compose  herself  he 
affected  to  be  busy  with  his  instrument  case. 

A  side  glance  presently  cast  in  her  direction 
showed  him  that  the  tears  were  still  on  her  cheeks 
and  also  that  she  was  not  anxious  to  avoid  his 
scrutiny. 

•'Are  you  going  to  throw  her  over? "  she  asked 
quietly. 

Camperdown  stared  at  her. 

"  Are  you  going  to  throw  her  over  on  account 
of  me?"  asked  Mrs.  Frispi,  again  indicating  Star- 
garde  by  a  motion  of  her  head. 

"  No,  I  am  not,"  he  said  decidedly. 

She  made  a  sound  of  satisfaction  in  her  throat 
and  went  on  coolly  :  "  She  forgives  me,  but  you 
will  not.  You  would  have  kicked  me  back  in  the 
mud.  She  pitied  me.  She  reminds  me  of  the  good 
people  that  I  was  with  in  New  York  for  a  little 
while  when  I  was  a  girl.  No  one  has  cared  for  me 
since.  I  couldn't  help  myself  Suppose  she  had 
been  brought  up  where  I  was." 

Camperdown  frowned  at  the  horrible  possi- 
bilities suggested.  Yet  he  took  comfort  in  the 
sturdy  character  of  his  betrothed.  "She  would 
have  been  good  anywhere,"  he  said  stoutly. 

2D 


4SO 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


I 


■■J   .: 
1 

i 

1  ■■ 

■'      1    ' 

i.il! 

■  -1; 

' 

11 

:ki 

,' 

U-  1 

t 

i^ 

'•Have  you  lived  in  the  slums?"  said  the 
woman  with  a  sneer.  "  Could  an  angel  be  good 
with  a  thousand  devils  after  her?  " 

He  did  not  reply  to  her  otherwise  than  by  a 
shrug  of  his  shoulders. 

"And  you  won't  forgive  me  for  disgracing  you," 
she  went  on  in  a  kind  of  languid  surprise ;  *'  and 
you  call  yourself  a  Christian." 

"Brian,"  said  Stargarde  with  a  passion  of  en- 
treaty in  her  voice. 

"I  do  forgive  you,"  he  said  not  unkindly,  and 
after  a  short  struggle  with  himself;  "but  you  can't 
expect  me  to  admire  you." 

"Admire  me  !"  she  exclaimed,  burying  her  face 
in  the  pillow.     "  Oh,  my  God  ! " 

A  few  minutes  later  he  left  the  Pavilion  and  went 
to  his  home. 

The  next  day  and  the  next  and  the  next  Cam- 
perdown  saw  Mrs.  Frispi,  but  she  did  not  speak  to 
him.  He  saw  that  she  was  becoming  weaker,  and 
also  that  she  was  in  a  quieter,  calmer  mood. 

"To-night  she  will  probably  die,"  he  said  on 
the  evening  of  the  third  day,  "  and  I  shall  take  Mrs. 
Trotley  and  go  to  Stargarde." 

While  he  was  at  dinner  a  message  came  from 
the  Pavilion  for  him  and  for  Zilla.  The  end  was 
coming  sooner  than  they  had  imagined  it  would. 

Zilla  hesitated  about  going  ;  not  that  she  feared 
death,  for  she  had  seen  many  people  die,  but  from 


A   WAYWORN    TRAVELER 


451 


purely  selfish  motives.  It  was  a  rainy  evening,  and 
she  would  rather  stay  at  home  and  read  one  of  licr 
beautiful  books  than  to  go  out  to  witness  the  end 
of  a  person  who  was  utterly  uninteresting  to  her. 

"I  cannot  wait,"  said  Camperdown,  "and  I  think 
that  you  ought  to  come  with  me.  There  is  a  cab 
at  the  door ;  you  won't  have  to  walk." 

Zilla  flashed  him  a  swift  glance,  darted  upstairs 
for  her  cloak,  and  went  with  him. 

It  was  certainly  not  a  hateful  sight  that  they  wit- 
nessed when  they  left  the  rain  and  darkness  of  the 
street  and  entered  Stargarde's  cheerful  rooms. 
Every  light  was  shining  brightly.  Mrs.  Frispi's 
sight  was  almost  gone,  and  to  enable  her  to  see 
some  objects  in  the  room  that  she  dearly  prized, 
Stargarde  had  even  had  additional  lights  brought  in. 

The  woman  lay  quietly  among  the  pillows  of  her 
snow-white  bed,  the  gaunt  framework  of  her  bones 
almost  piercing  through  the  thin  covering  of  skin. 
Stargarde  sat  by  the  bed  and  in  a  recess  was  a  girl 
dressed  in  the  uniform  of  the  Salvation  Army. 

"It  is  no  use,"  Mrs.  Frispi  was  uttering  in  short 
gasping  breaths,  as  Camperdown  and  Zilla  paused 
in  the  doorway  ;  "  I  can't  see  them — tell  me." 

Around  Stargarde's  room  hung  a  number  of 
paintings  illustrating  an  old  hymn  that  she  was  fond 
of  singing,  Two  years  before  an  English  artist, 
poor  and  drunken  and  expelled  from  his  native 
land,  had  found  a  shelter  till  his  death  in  the  Pa- 


M 


U 


ill 


i^  ? 


?l! 


:  J.: 


■   I' 

i'  i'i 

'■     1'    '' 

:      !■    ', 

452 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


vilion.  In  gratitude  for  Stargarde's  kindness  to 
him,  he  had  painted  a  series  of  pictures  for  her, 
representing  the  adventures  of  the  wayworn  trav- 
eler that  he  had  so  often  heard  her  singing  about 
to  a  quaint,  wild  tune. 

On  these  paintings  hanging  around  her  bed  Mrs. 
Frispi's  eyes  had  often  rested,  and  Stargarde,  think- 
ing that  no  more  applicable  story  could  be  framed 
to  suit  her  mother's  circumstances,  had,  in  talking 
to  her,  woven  biblical  truths  with  the  progress  of 
the  weary  traveler.  The  striking  pictures  and  the 
graphic  words  had  impressed  themselves  upon  the 
sin-worn  mind.  Even  now,  when  her  earthly  vision 
was  dulled,  the  dying  one  had  before  her  mental 
gaze  the  representations  of  the  traveler  toiling  up 
the  mountain,  his  garments  worn  and  dusty,  his 
step  slow,  his  eyes  turned  resolutely  from  the  en- 
chanting arbors  where  sweet  songsters  invited  his 
delay  to  the  top  of  the  mountain,  beyond  which 
were  the  heavenly  vale  and  the  golden  city. 

"While  gazing  on  that  city," 

repeated  Stargarde  gently, 

"Just  o'er  the  narrow  flood, 
A  band  of  holy  angels 

Came  from  the  throne  of  God. 
They  bore  him  on  their  pinions 

Safe  o'  er  the  dashing  foam, 
And  joined  him  in  his  triumph  ; 
'  Deliverance  will  come.'  " 


A   WAYWORN    TRAVELER 


453 


cindness  to 
res  for  her, 
^worn  trav- 
iging  about 

er  bed  Mrs. 
jarde,  think- 
J  be  framed 
i,  in  talking 

progress  of 
ures  and  the 
^es  upon  the 
larthly  vision 
:  her  mental 
er  toiling  up 
d  dusty,  his 
from  the  en- 
invited  his 
syond  which 

city. 


.d. 


Her  voice  died  away,  and  Zilla  sank  into  a  chair 
while  Camperdown  stepped  softly  to  the  bedside. 
There  was  nothing  that  he  could  do  for  his  patient ; 
the  shadow  of  death  was  already  upon  her  face. 

Yet  she  lay  quietly,  as  quietly  as  a  child  about  to 
fall  asleep,  and  giving  no  sign  of  distress  or  emotion 
except  in  the  hurried  and  labored  rise  and  fall  of 
her  chest. 

*'  I  believe  in  God  now,"  she  said  solemnly,  and 
moving  hei'  almost  sightless  eyes  toward  him.  •'  I 
believe  in  everything.  Oh,"  with  a  sudden  great 
and  bitter  cry,  and  straining  her  gaze  in  Stargarde's 
direction,  "what  a  wrong  I  have  done  her  !" 

Stargarde  held  one  of  her  mother's  hands  in  her 
own.  At  her  despairing  words  she  seized  the 
other  and  folded  them  both  between  her  strong, 
fair  palms  with  a  consoling  clasp. 

"  I  wish  to  go  to  heaven  because  she  will  be 
there,"  said  the  woman,  starting  up  in  bed  with  a 
last  exertion  of  strength.  *'  I  cast  her  off  when  she 
was  a  b.iby,  and  she  kisses  me  !" 

Camperdown  hastily  pushed  more  pillows  behind 
her  and  moistened  her  lips  with  drops  of  a  stimulant 
beside  him. 

"  I  can  see  plainly  now,"  she  went  on,  opening 
wide  her  blue  eyes  with  dieir  strange  and  touching 
expression.  "  Zeb,  mind  what  she  says  and  don't 
vex  her.  Take  good  care  of  her,  you,"  she  con- 
tinued, addressing  Camperdown.      "  I  forgive  you 


ll 


1 1 


h  f.  Ji:  t^'^-^i 


454 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


% 


if'-'j 


'1 


f'i 


'i 


now ;  I  could  have  killed  you  before.  I  hated 
every-  man.  I  forgive  all" — brokenly — "as  I  hope 
to  be  forgiven — even  him." 

Her  breath  fluttered  convulsive^  for  a  few  min- 
utes, then  she  sprang  forward  :  "  I  hear  them — the 
song  of  triumph  they  sing  upon  that  shore.  Jesus 
hath  redeemed  us — to  suffer  nevermore,"  she  added. 
•*0  Jesus,  do  not  despise  me — I  am  sorry." 

Her  last  words  were  spoken.  She  fell  back  in 
Campcrdown's  arms  and  he  laid  her  head  on  the 
pillows. 

Stargarde's  face  was  shining  like  that  of  an  angel. 
For  many  days  he  had  seen  her  kneeling  by  that 
sick-bed,  had  heard  her  pleading  voice,  "O  God, 
give  mc  this  soul :  •^?.ve  my  mother  and  take  her 
to  heaven."  Now  her  heart's  desire  was  gratified, 
and  he  feared  that  after  the  long  weeks  of  matching 
and  confinement  to  the  house  a  collapse  would 
come  ;  but  there  was  no  sign  of  it  yet.  Very 
calmly  she  asked  Zilla  if  she  would  care  to  stay 
in  the  room  while  Camperdown  left  it.  Zilla  re- 
mained ;  and  Stargarde,  while  performing  the  last 
tender  offices  for  her  mother  in  which  she  would 
receive  only  a  small  amount  of  assistance  from  her 
friend  of  the  Salvation  Army,  talked  sweetly  to  the 
child  of  the  triumphant  entry  of  their  mother's 
spirit  into  heaven,  and  of  the  putting  away  «f  the 
deserted  body  under  the  gr.tss  and  the  flowers 
where  it  would  lie  till  the  joyful  resurrection. 


A    WAYWORN    TRAVELER 


455 


:.     I  hated 
•"  as  I  hope 

a  few  min- 

them — the 

ore.     Jesus 

she  added. 

ly." 

ell  back  in 
lead  on  the 


Death  had  before  this  been  connected  with  all 
that  was  squalid  and  mysterious  and  unlovely  in 
the  child's  mind — not  a  thing  to  be  feared  among 
people  who  led  reckless  lives,  but  rather  to  be 
hated  and  shunned. 

When  she  at  last  left  the  Pavilion  and  put  her 
hand  in  Camperdown's  for  him  to  take  her  home, 
she  remarked  sagely,  "  I  shall  not  mind  dying,  now 
that  I  am  rich." 


Df  an  angel, 
ing  by  that 
;,  -  O  God, 
id  lake  her 
IS  gratified, 
of  watching 
apse  would 
yet.  Very 
are  to  stay 
:.  Zilla  re- 
ing  the  last 
I  she  would 
ce  from  her 
eetly  to  the 
ir  mother's 
iway  f  the 
the  flowers 
rrection. 


m 


i  ■  I 


; 


m 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 


A   FOX   CHASE 


IT  was  just  dinner  time  at  Pinewood.  All  the 
house  doors  and  windows  were  open,  and  the 
sound  of  the  gong  reached  the  ears  of  a  man  who 
was  mincing  down  the  avenue.  "  Ha,"  he  said 
stopping  short,  "the  honorable  lady  will  be  par- 
taking of  some  comestibles.  It  will  be  advisable 
that  I  dally  away  the  time  till  she  shall  be  lured 
without  by  the  refreshing  delightsomcness  of  the 
evening."  And  skirting  the  edge  of  the  lawn  and 
perceiving  Joe  he  made  his  way  down  to  the  sunny 
slope. 

"A  handsome  day,  Mr.  Lo,"  he  said,  saluting  the 
Indian,  who  raised  his  head  to  stare  at  him.^ 

Joe  responded  by  an  "  Ugh  ! "  and  bent  again 
over  a  small  rent  in  his  upturned  canoe.  After  a 
short  silence  his  curiosity  got  the  better  of  his 
reserve,  and  he  said,  "Why  you  call  me  Lo?  I 
Joe." 

" '  Lo,  the    poor    Indian,'  don't  you  know  the 
poetry?"   asked   MacDaly.      "With  me   it  is  the 
generic  and  epidemic  name  for  the  aborigines  of 
this  province." 
456 


A    FOX    CHASE 


457 


.     All  the 

n,  and  the 

man  who 

,"  he  said 

ill  be  par- 

:  advisable 

11  be  lured 

ess  of  the 

lawn  and 

the  sunny 

iluting  the 
m. 

)ent  again 
After  a 
er  of  his 
e  Lo?     I 

know  the 
it  is  the 
)rigines  of 


Joe  gave  him  a  sleepy  look  from  his  dark  eyes 
in  which  there  was  no  hint  of  displeasure.  "What 
you  want?"  he  asked  bluntly. 

"  I  am  about  to  enter  upon,  or  in  some  way 
engage  in  a  private  interview  with  a  certain  favor- 
ably disposed  personage  di  tinguished  by  many 
gifts  and  graces,  but  whose  name  I  will  not  take 
upon  my  unworthy  lips,"  said  MacDaly ;  "  but 
what  have  we  here  ?  The  honorable  Lady  Stargardc 
must  be  in  the  vicinity,  judging  by  the  appearance 
of  her  scout" 

Mascarene,  delighted  as  only  a  city  dog  who  is 
kept  in  a  close  street  can  be  when  removed  to 
open  fields,  came  frisking  and  jumping  down  the 
incline.  His  frolic  over,  he  fawned  on  Joe,  who 
v/as  intensely  fond  of  him  but  scarcely  glanced  at 
him,  and  sniffed  in  a  friendly  manner  around  Mac- 
Daly  who,  while  lauding  him  to  the  skies  as  a  cap- 
tivating canine,  cared  for  him  not  at  all. 

"What  you  gottum  for  Miss  Dcbbilinc?"  asked 
Joe  of  MacDaly,  who  was  pirouetting  to  and  fro  to 
keep  out  of  the  way  of  the  dog. 

MacDaly,  rather  taken  aback,  mumbled  that  in 
the  event  of  not  seeing  the  young  demoiselle  he 
had  a  small  communication  addressed  to  her  that 
he  would  be  obliged  to  have  some  one  deliver,  and 
he  twirled  between  his  thumb  and  finger  a  soiled 
three-cornered  note. 

He  did  not  offer  it  to  Joe,  nor  did  Joe  take  it 


I' 


b 


i 


! 


458 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


A    . 


hfi 


f 


U4 


from  him,  yet  in  a  somewhat  bewildered  fashion 
he  saw  that  the  sly  Christmas  had  it,  and  was  trans- 
ferring it  to  his  pocket. 

"Ah,  well-a-day,  it  is  of  small  import,"  he  mut- 
tered, while  watching  the  Micmac  draw  his  canoe 
up  on  the  grass. 

"  Me  hot,"  said  Joe ;  "  workum  no  more  till  morn- 
ing.   You  want  money?"  he  added  inquiringly. 

MacDaly's  eyes  brightened.  Money !  was  he 
not  always  wanting  it? 

"You  come  with  me,"  said  the  Indian  mysteri- 
ously, and  MacDaly  fearing  no  treachery  followed 
him. 

If  he  had  heard  an  order  that  the  Indian  had 
received  from  Mr.  Armour  a  few  days  previously 
his  heart  would  not  have  been  so  light  as  it  was. 
"Joe,"  Armour  had  said,  "that  man  MacDaly  is 
troubling  Miss  Delavigne.  If  you  see  him  about 
here  send  him  away."  And  Joe,  who  in  his  heart 
despised  MacDaly,  had  grunted  acquiescence. 

Trippingly  MacDaly  stepped  after  him  to  the 
shore  immediately  behind  the  cottage,  where  a 
long  black  rock  ran  out  so  far  that  if  the  cottage 
were  dropped  off  the  end  of  it  the  tops  of  the 
chimneys  would  not  be  seen  above  the  water. 

"You  come  here,"  said  Joe,  going  to  the  end  of 
the  rock  and  kneeling  down. 

"Buried  treasure,  eh?"  said  MacDaly  gloat- 
ingly, "or  perchance  something  sunken  in  the  rock 


m' 


A    FOX   CHASE 


459 


;d  fashion 
was  trans- 

"  he  mut- 
his  canoe 

:  till  morn- 
iiringly. 
!   was   he 

n  mysteri- 
y  followed 

Indian  had 
previously 

as  it  was. 
/lacDaly  is 

lim  about 
n  his  heart 
:ence. 
lim  to  the 
where   a 

ic  cottage 
Dps  of  the 
vatcr. 

the  end  of 

)aly  gloat- 
in  the  rock 


■» 


and  the  savage  unaware  of  its  value  wishes  to  re- 
ceive the  opinion  of  an  expert  and — what  are  you 
doing,  you  rascal?"  he  spluttered  as  he  felt  the 
Micmac's  hand  on  his  collar. 

"You  dirty,  me  washum,"  said  Joe  playfully,  and 
still  gripping  the  astonished  Irish-Canadian  by  the 
back  of  the  neck  he  swung  him  off  the  end  of  the 
rock  and  soused  him  up  and  down  in  the  water. 

"Fm  not  dirty,"  pleaded  MacDaly  pitcously, 
"  and  for  the  love  of  mercy  do  not  let  go  your  hold 
of  me  or  I  shall  sink  like  a  stone." 

"You  bad  man,"  said  Joe  ;  "you  teaseum  Miss 
Debbilinc.     You  say,  me  don't  speakum  her  more." 

"  I  promise  ;  ye  gods  and  little  fishes  hear  my 
vow  ! "  cried  MacDaly,  when  Joe  allowed  him  to 
come  far  enough  out  of  the  water  to  clasp  his 
hands.     "Oh,  let  me  out,  let  me  out !" 

"  You  been  bery  bad,"  said  Joe  seriously.  "  Me 
priest  now.     You  sayum  sins  quick." 

MacDaly  with  alarming  rapidity  rattled  off  a 
number  of  venial  transgressions.  He  had  recov- 
ered from  his  first  alarm  and  was  reflecting  that  the 
Indian  did  not  wish  to  hurt  him  but  only  to  frighten 
him,  that  the  water  was  agreeably  cool,  and  that  he 
had  on  his  second-best  suit  of  clothes. 

"You  done  worse  than  that,"  said  Joe.  "Tell- 
um  worse  thing  you  done,"  and  he  let  MacDaly 
down  in  the  water  till  his  cars  and  eyes  were 
covered. 


I 


,!;■ 


m 


l^ 


?.' 


H-ii 
I: 
I 


![;! 


^ir.  J 


f:  f 


fc       -K- 


n 


i 


ffi 

1!  • 

•n 

p 

■1? 

r 

;   1 
i 

1 

^T   1 

'  !  1 

t 

t- 

:'  '(    ■ 

1  ' 

'i  '  1 

!  1 

fil 

'!  -r  b'liilL 

il'xili 

1  .  ; 

'■? 

'''  i'liiii  1 

1 

'  J "  iffiii'  1 

". 

1     ' 

1 

' ! ' 

|i;^*i| 


460 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


•'  Oh,  mermaids  and  cuttle  fish,  I  can't ! "  his  vic- 
tim gurgled  and  spluttered. 

"  Must,"  said  the  Micmac,  dipping  him  again  till 
the  crown  of  his  head  was  immersed. 

"  I  burnt  a  building,"  gasped  MacDaly  in  real 
fright.  "  Now  let  me  out,"  and  for  the  first  time 
making  resistance  he  clung  to  the  rock  with  his 
hands. 

Joe  allowed  him  to  clamber  up  beside  him. 
"What  you  burnum?"  he  asked. 

"  A  building,"  groaned  MacDaly,  patting  his  drip- 
ping sides.     "Alack,  alack,  I'm  very  wet" 

"  You  ever  hunt  fox  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Great  sport ;  you  be  fox,  me  hunter.  This  be 
dog,"  pointing  to  the  bewildered  Mascarene,  who 
had  been  in  the  water  swimming  around  MacDaly 
waiting  for  a  chance  to  rescue  him,  and  who  was 
now  sitting  staring  at  him.      "  Run,"  added  Joe. 

"But  there  would  be  no  confidence  existing," 
said  MacDaly  protestingly. 

"Run,"  said  Joe,  who  had  not  the  slightest  idea 
of  his  meaning,  and  MacDaly  with  a  sigh  skipped 
nimbly  over  the  wall.  Away  up  at  the  top  of  the 
hill  he  looked  back  and  fancied  that  he  was  to  be 
allowed  to  escape,  for  Joe  stood  motionless  with 
the  dog  beside  him.  MacDaly  could  not  resist 
making  a  derisive  motion  of  his  hand,  but  repented 
immediately   and    bitterly,    and   with   a   plaintive 


A    FOX   CHASE 


461 


!"  hisvic- 

i  again  till 

ily  in  real 

first  time 

k  with  his 

iside   him. 

ig  his  drip- 


This  be 
Irene,  who 

MacDaly 
d  who  was 
ed  Joe. 

existing," 


htest  idea 
rh  skipped 
top  of  the 

was  to  be 
nless  with 

not  resist 
t  repented 
L   plaintive 


squeal  of  dismay  fled  in  the  direction  of  the  town, 
for  hunter  and  dog  bounding  Hke  two  stealthy 
panthers  were  after  him. 

A  few  minutes  later  Joe  was  shaking  his  small 
remaining  amount  of  breath  from  him.  "What 
you  burnum?" 

Still  MacDaly  would  not  tell  him,  again  Joe  let 
him  off,  but  only  to  resume  his  chase,  till  at  last 
the  unfortunate  fox,  bedraggled,  exhausted,  and 
overcome,  told  him  the  secret  of  his  life. 

Joe  with  a  noiseless  step  returned  to  the  cottage, 
and  lay  in  wait  under  a  larch  for  Mr.  Armour,  who 
always  came  down  to  see  his  brother  some  time 
during  the  evening. 

"  Mr.  Val  sleepum,"  he  said  an  hour  later  when 
Mr.  Armour  was  about  to  pass  him,  "  and  cunnel 
away.  This  for  Miss  Debbiline,  from  Daly,"  and 
he  held  out  the  three-cornered  note.  "  Daly  say," 
he  went  on,  "that  he  burnum  warehouse.  Miss 
Debbiline's  father  not  do  it.  Daly  happen  go 
early  to  warehouse.  He  go  in  office,  find  cigar,  he 
smokeum.  He  no  business  there,  hearum  noise, 
run  out.  He  'fraid  some  one  catchum.  He  drop 
cigar — must  sparks  fall,  he  not  know.  Not  do  on 
purpose.     He  'fraid  tellum." 

"Where  is  MacDaly?"  asked  Mr.  Armour 
sternly. 

"  Gone  home.  I  tell  him  go  see  you  in  morn- 
ing." 


! 


462 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


HiM 


"  Do  you  think  that  he  will  do  so  ?  " 

"  He  sartin  come,"  and  Joe,  laughing  musically, 
withdrew  and  left  his  master  standing  as  if  spell- 
bound under  the  trees. 

Stargarde  and  Vivienne  walking  to  and  fro  on 
the  lawn  waited  a  long  time  for  Armour  to  return. 
Finally  he  came  slowly  toward  them.  "  Here  is  a 
note  for  you,  Vivienne,  from  MacDaly,"  he  said. 

The  girl  took  it  from  him.  "  It  is  too  dark  here 
to  read  it  Let  us  go  into  the  house.  His  pro- 
ductions are  so  amusing.  *  Miss  Delavigne  !'  "  she 
read  when  they  three  stood  beside  a  lamp  in 
the  drawing  room  ;  '"if  it  had  pleased  an  all-wise 
Providence  to  place  me  in  a  different  walk  of  life 
and  I  saw  a  black  man — a  thoroughly  black  man — 
at  any  period  of  time  I  should  really  consider  him 
worthy  of  the  intrinsic  offering  of  one  solitary  luci- 
fer  match  for  a  slight  midsummer  present.  Though 
simple  as  it  may  appear,  it  would  be  as  truly  accept- 
able by  my  honorable  self  as  it  would  by  the  black 
man,  and  it  would  by  all  means  show  you  a  lady 
undoubted.  With  a  profundity  of  respect.  Derrick 
Edward  Fitz-James  O' Grady  MacDaly.  P.  S.  This 
wonderful  match  would  be  to  illuminate  a  fellow's 


t  it 


pipe, 

Vivienne  turned  the  paper  over  with  a  bewildered 
face.  "  It  is  enigmatical.  Does  he  wish  matches, 
Stargarde  ?  " 

Stargarde  clad  in  a  long  black  gown  that  made 


I  1: 


A    FOX   CHASE 


463 


musically, 
IS  if  spell- 

nd  fro  on 
to  return. 
'  Here  is  a 
he  said, 
dark  here 

His  pro- 
ne!'" she 

lamp  in 
an  all-wise 
'alk  of  life 
ick  man — 
nsider  him 
litary  luci- 
,  Though 
ily  accept- 
the  black 
^ou  a  lady 
:t,  Derrick 
P.  S.  This 
)  a  fellow's 


her  seem  paler  than  usual  and  her  hair  brighter, 
softly  drew  her  fingers  across  Vivienne's  check. 
"  He  wishes  a  dollar,  my  child." 

'•  You  have  given  this  man  a  good  deal  of  money, 
have  you  not?  "  asked  Armour. 

Vivienne  blushed.  ••  Not  very  much.  He  talks 
to  me  of  my  father." 

"Will  you  not  leave  him  to  me  ?  I  promise  not 
to  hurt  his  feelings.     I  will  give  him  some  work." 

"Yes,  I  will,"  said  Vivienne  ;  "but  why  do  you 
look  at  me  so  peculiarly.  He  has  something  to 
tell  me,"  turning  vivaciously  to  Stargarde,  "and 
he  won't  say  it." 

"  Not  to-night,"  he  replied  with  a  sigh  and  a 
smile  and  a  look  of  inexpressible  affection. 


t 


■;!    " ! 


jewildered 
li  matches, 


i. 


that  made 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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lis 

no 


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2f   13.6     !■■ 

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Fhotographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WiST  MAIN  STMIT 

WIUTH,N.Y.  I45M 

(7U)t72-4!)03 


•<» 


!^. 


1^ 


Til!|ii 


CHAPTER  XXXV 


HER    WEDDING    DAY 


m:^  I 


irliil 


*  A  WILD  bird  in  a  cage ;  a  trapped  beauty  and  a 
^tx.  disconsolate  beast,"  muttered  Cnmperdov/n 
late  in  the  evening  of  the  day  of  his  marriage. 

He  sat  in  a  corner  of  his  drawing  room,  his  eyes 
riveted  on  Stargarde's  back  as  she  stood  holding 
aside  the  lace  window  curtain  and  gazing  out  into 
the  street. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  he  went  on  grumblingly, 
"that  I've  seen  a  picture  called  'Alone'  or  'At 
Last  *  or  some  such  rubbishy  name,  where  a  bride- 
groom, and  bride  having  got  rid  of  all  their  dear 
friends  and  relatives  are  hanging  on  each  other's 
necks  ;  this  isn't  much  like  it,"  grimly.  "  What  is 
it  now,  Stargarde  ?  " 

"  I  thought  I  heard  a  child  crying  in  the  street," 
she  said,  coming  to  rest  on  the  sofa  beside  him. 

"  You  are  nervous,"  he  said,  smoothing  back  the 
curls  from  her  brow,  and  noting  with  a  pang  at  his 
heart  the  unearthly  pallor  of  her  face,  from  which 
every  vestige  of  its  usually  delicate  color  had  fled. 
"Your  entire  specialized  apparatus  for  receiving 
irritation  is  up  in  arms." 

464 


HER    WEDDING    DAY 


465 


luty  and  a 

nperdov/n 

riage. 

1,  his  eyes 

d  holding 

y  out  into 

jmblingly, 
e'  or  'At 
re  a  bride- 
their  dear 
ch  other's 
"  What  is 

he  street," 
le  him. 
y  back  the 
)ang  at  his 
rom  which 
r  had  fled, 
receiving 


"I  am  usually  counted  a  steady,  firm  person, 
Brian." 

"You're  like  all  women  ;  you  want  careful  treat- 
ment at  times.  Look  at  this  fine  hair,  this  thin 
skin,  these  muscles,  small,  though  they  are  strong  ; 
and  don't  tell  me  that  you  haven't  a  nervous  tem- 
perament." 

"I  wonder  how  they're  getting  on  at  the  Pa- 
vilion ?  "  she  said  dreamily. 

He  looked  down  at  the  head  lying  on  his 
shoulder  with  an  aggrieved  expression.  "The 
Pavilion,  the  Pavilion,  always  the  Pavilion.  It 
doesn't  matter  about  me." 

"  I  am  afi-aid  to  think  of  you,"  she  murmured. 

"Why?" 

"  I  am  frightened,  nay,  terrified  at  my  own  hap- 
piness, when  there  are  so  many  sore  hearts  in  the 
world." 

"She's  lying,  sweet  soul,"  he  communed  with 
himself  as  he  stared  at  her ;  "  there's  no  happiness 
in  her  heart.  She's  nearly  frantic  in  this  decently 
furnished  house  and  on  this  quiet  street  away  from 
her  offscourings.  It's  like  tearing  her  soul  from  her 
body  to  give  them  up.     Stargarde  ! " 

She  did  not  hear  him. 

"Am  I  to  lose  her  now?  "  he  reflected  with  sud- 
den anguish  ;  "now,  on  the  threshold  of  happiness? 
She's  dropping  into  one  of  her  'misery  of  the  world ' 
agonies,  and  if  she  goes  off  this  time  !    Stargarde," 

as 


I 


IS 


la 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 

he  said  almost  roughly  dislodging  her  head  from 
his  shoulder  and  jumping  up,  "  I'm  going  for  a 
walk." 

"Are  you? "  she  said  with  languid  surprise. 

'•Yes.  Getting  married  and  being  in  a  crowd 
indoors  all  day  doesn't  agree  with  me.  Do  you 
know  where  I'm  going?" 

"No." 

"Up  to  Rockland  Street,  to  look  at  the  house 
where  you  have  slept  for  so  many  years,  with  your 
narrow  white  bed  dragged  against  the  wall  so  that 
even  in  your  sleep  you  might  be  near  the  people 
who  passed  on  the  street." 

She  smiled  faintly  at  him. 

"  You  come  too.  Your  namesakes  are  all  out. 
It  is  a  lovely  night." 

She  hesitated,  but  he  went  to  the  hall  and  seizing 
a  cap  and  a  shawl  from  the  hat-rack,  came  back  and 
put  them  on  her. 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  should  fall,"  she  said  rising  un- 
steadily. 

"  Nonsense,  my  dear  girl ;  nerves  again.  Take 
my  arm  and  you'll  be  all  right  when  we. get  into 
the  street.  You're  better  now,  aren't  you  ? "  he 
asked  as  they  strolled  along  the  flagged  pavement. 

"Yes,"  she  murmured  absently. 

"Don't  dawdle,"  he  said,  "but  let  us  go  briskly, 
and  breathe  all  the  fresh  air  we  can,  and  don't  go 
to  sleep  but  talk  to  me.     Stay,  I'll  do  something 


1 


HER    WEDDING    DAY 


46/ 


lead  from 
)ing  for  a 

prise. 

1  a  crowd 
Do  you 


the  house 

with  your 

^all  so  that 

the  people 


re  all  out. 

and  seizing 
e  back  and 

rising  un- 

;ain.  Take 
ve.get  into 
you?"  he 
1  pavement 

5  go  briskly, 
id  don't  go 
0  something 


amusing.  Lean  against  this  wall  for  a  jifify  till  I 
see  if  I  can  jump  this  barricade.  If  I  can't,  you 
shall  have  twenty  dollars  for  your  soup  kitchen. 
Now,  Camperdown,  distinguish  yourself,"  and  to 
Stargarde's  mild  amazement  he  proceeded  to  the 
middle  of  the  street  where  some  repairs  were  being 
carried  on,  and  running  back  attempted  to  leap 
over  an  erection  of  planks. 

Again  and  again  he  went  at  it,  stumbling,  falling, 
and  never  once  clearing  it,  though  it  was  a  marvel 
to  Stargarde  that  with  his  great  agility  he  could 
not  do  so. 

While  she  stood  smiling  at  him,  some  one  came 
around  the  corner  of  the  street.  "Ha,  ha!"  she 
heard  in  a  laughing  voice,  "  how  much  for  the  ex- 
hibition ?  Has  matrimony  gone  to  your  head  or 
your  heels,  Camperdown?  I  beg  your  pardon, 
Mrs.  Camperdown,  I  did  not  .^ee  you,"  and  a  young 
man  who  was  a  friend  of  Valentine's  took  off  his  hat 
with  a  flourish. 

"  Hurrah,  I've  cleared  it ! "  vociferated  Camper- 
down with  a  final  leap,  after  which  he  approached 
them;  "but  your  soup  kitchen  sha'n't  lose,  Star- 
garde.     How  do  you  do,  Dana?" 

Mr.  Dana  saluted  him  with  a  succession  of  teasing 
remarks.  "  Is  it  an  eviction  ?  If  not,  what  do  you 
mean  by  dragging  your  wife  through  the  streets  at 
this  hour?  This  comes  of  setting  yourselv»::.s  up  to 
be  models  for  your  neighbors — refusing  wedding 


i 

1 


468 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


);?       |l 


presents  and  not  taking  a  honeymoon  trip.  You'll 
come  to  a  bad  end.  Why  don't  you  leave  him, 
Mrs.  Camperdown  ?  " 

*'Any  news,  Dana?"  inquired  Camperdown 
agreeably. 

"  Nothing  but  your  marriage,  with  which  the 
town  is  ringing.  All  the  little  newsboys  are  run- 
ning about  patting  their  stomachs  in  satisfaction." 

"  My  wife  wished  to  give  everybody  a  feast," 
returned  the  physician,  "though  she  did  not  feel 
much  like  entering  into  it  herself  on  account  of  her 
recent  affliction." 

"She  looks  horribly  pale  to-night,"  said  the 
younger  man,  lowering  his  voice  so  that  Stargarde 
who  was  standing  at  a  little  distance  from  them 
should  not  hear. 

"  That's  why  I  have  her  out,"  said  Camperdown 
with  a  sudden  burst  of  confidence ;  "  I  feel  like  those 
classic  fellows  who  used  to  get  entangled  with  god- 
desses, thinking  that  they  were  mortal  women. 
That  wife  of  mine  is  so  ultra-human  that  though 
she  is  happy  herself  she  can't  go  to  sleep  till  she 
knows  that  everything  is  straight  in  her  old  home." 

"  I'm  glnd  you  haven't  been  beating  her,"  said 
Mr.  Dana  serenely,  "  for  as  you  say,  she  is  beyond 
the  human.  Who  takes  charge  at  the  Pavilion 
now  that  she  has  left  it?" 

"  The  Salvation  Army — it  is  too  much  for  one 


woman. 


f> 


■ — -1^ 


n 


HER   WEDDING    DAY 


469 


You'll 
;ave  him, 

iperdown 

vhich  the 
s  are  run- 
faction." 
a  feast," 
1  not  feel 
unt  of  her  . 

said  the 
Stargarde 
•om  them 

nperdown 

like  those 

with  god- 

l   women. 

lat  though 

ep  till  she 

)ld  home." 

her,"  said 

is  beyond 

e  Pavilion 

:h  for  one 


**  What  was  your  objection  to  a  wedding  tour? " 
asked  the  young  man  curiously. 

"There  it  is  again,"  said  his  companion  in  an 
aggrieved  voice,  "  everybody  is  badgering  me 
about  it.  I've  no  objection  to  tours  of  any  kind, 
but  I  can't  go  proclaiming  .through  the  city  that 
my  wife  isn't  fit  to  travel.  People  are  utterly 
senseless  about  traveling,  which  is  one  of  the  most 
fatiguing  things  on  earth.  They  come  to  me  say- 
ing, 'Doctor,  I'm  run  down,  no  appetite,  can't 
sleep — where  shall  I  go?'  'Goto  bed,  you  idiots,' 
I  say,  '  and  sleep  and  eat  and  take  your  journey 
when  you  recover.'  " 

Mr.  Dana  laughed  at  him  and  held  out  his  cigar 
case.     "  Have  one,  you  will  find  it  composing." 

"  No,  thank  you,"  and  Camperdown  threw  a 
keen  glance  at  his  wife.  He  saw  that  Mr.  Dana's 
chatter  had  partly  roused  her  from  the  state  of 
deadly  languor  that  always  preceded  her  severe 
paroxysms  of  pain,  and  in  intense  relief  he  ejacu- 
lated, "Glad  we  met  you,  Dana.  Good-night," 
and  offering  Stargarde  his  arm,  he  proceeded  along 
the  street  in  a  leisurely  fashion. 

Arrived  on  Rockland  Street,  they  paused  outside 
the  dark  windows  of  her  deserted  room,  then  walking 
softly  inside  the  courtyard,  skirted  the  walls  of  the 
long  building.  The  lights  were  nearly  all  out  and 
the  people  were  asleep.  Here  and  there  a  feeble 
gleam  told  of  a  sick-bed,  and  Stargarde,  who  knew 


m 


Tvil'' 

iiiir 

M'iii 

;!  ':     ] 

'.  '    1 ' 

j 

,'                 1 

1' '!' 

i      '      '    ' 

■1 

'j 

p 

1 

'';■ 

1 

■  1 

i'f" 


if 

II!!  !ii' 
1 1 

IP 
Iji: 


'llll|l|{||i' 


470 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


the  condition  of  all,  murmured  a  prayer  as  she 
passed  such  places.  Finally  her  silent  adieux  were 
said  and  there  was  no  longer  an  excuse  for  her  to 
linger. 

"  Remember  Lot's  wife,"  said  Camperdown  dryly 
when  she  paused  under  the  archway  to  look  back. 

She  turned  to  him  with  a  troubled  face.  "  Never 
mind,  Philanthropia,  I  am  only  joking,"  he  said, 
suppressing  a  laugh.  "It  is  a  satisfaction  to  you 
to  see  that  they  are  all  resting  quietly  without  you, 
is  it  not?" 

"  Yes  ;  my  work  is  done  here,"  she  murmured. 

"  But  you  can  still  come  back,  sweetheart.  Here 
is  one  gnarled  sinner  that  will  be  greatly  edified  by 
pilgrimages  to  the  Pavilion." 

She  clung  to  his  arm  without  speaking,  and  as 
they  sauntered  out  to  the  street  he  muttered,  "  I 
mustn't  bother  her  with  talk.  She  won't  slip  back 
into  that  state  again." 

Passing  quietly  by  one  door  after  another,  they 
came  suddenly  upon  a  slight,  gentle-faced  young 
man  with  a  weak,  irresolute  mouth,  who  stole  like 
a  ghost  around  the  corner  and  put  his  foot  on  the 
lower  step  of  a  small  house  with  dormer  windows. 

Camperdown  looked  at  him  narrowly  without 
speaking,  but  in  an  instant  Stargarde's  hand  was 
on  his  shoulder.  "  Charlie,  you  are  not  going  in 
there  ! " 

He  blushed,  frowned,  and  bit  his  lip. 


HER    WEDDING    DAY 


471 


;r  as  she 
eux  were 
)r  her  to 

)wn  dryly 
ok  back. 
"  Never 
he  said, 
)n  to  you 
liout  you, 

urmured. 
,rt.  Here 
idified  by 

g,  and  as 
:tered,  "I 
slip  back 

ther,  they 
^d  young 
stole  like 
Dt  on  the 

windows. 
y  without 
hand  was 

going  in 


"  Now  for  the  last  time  I  speak  to  you  about 
it,"  said  Stargarde.  "  I  want  you  to  decide  to- 
night. Will  you  not  promise  me — this  is  my  wed- 
ding night,  you  know.  One  can  refuse  nothing  to 
a  bride." 

A  bride,  and  such  a  bride — and  on  those  upper 
streets  by  those  stealthily  closed  houses.  The  boy, 
for  he  was  scarcely  more  than  that,  looked 
strangely  at  her.  The  cool  night  wind  came 
.sweeping  down  the  street  blowing  to  his  ears  the 
striking  of  a  distant  bell. 

"  Charlie,"  breathed  Stargarde  in  tones  of  sup- 
plication, "you  must  promise  me.  You  were  once 
such  a  good  boy  ;  and  your  father — I  think,"  she 
said,  putting  up  one  of  her  white  hands  to  her  face, 
"  that  he  was  one  of  the  best  men  that  God  ever 
made.     Every  one  loved  him." 

The  young  man  saw  with  manifest  distress  the 
tears  trickling  down  between  her  fingers.  "  For 
Heaven's  sake,  Miss  Turner,  compose  youself," 
he  said.  "Come,  I  will  walk  back  a  little  way 
with  you." 

"  Promise  her,  boy,"  said  Camperdown,  coming 
up  and  clapping  his  hand  on  the  young  man's 
other  shoulder. 

"  Your  sister  and  your  mother,"  whispered  Star- 
garde, "you  are  breaking  their  hearts." 

At  the  mention  of  his  mother  the  young  man's 
lip  quivered.     He  hid  his  face  in  his  hat  that  he 


n 


!       I 


472 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


held  in  his  hand,  and  Camperdown,  withdrawing  to 
a  Httle  distance,  saw  a  hand  uplifted  to  the  quiet 
sky,  and  heard  the  muttered,  "So  help  me,  God." 

Stargarde  cauj^ht  the  attesting  hand  in  her  own. 
"  May  God  bless  you,  Charlie  ;  let  us  go  a  little 
'  way  with  you.     You  have  made  me  so  happy." 

Side  by  side  the  three  people  went  quietly  to  a 
house  in  the  northern  part  of  the  town.     As  they 
stopped  before  the  door,  Stargarde  said  :  "  You  will 
come  to  see  me  to-morrow  evening  and  bring  your, 
sister,  will  you  not?" 

"  Yes,  I  will,"  and  the  voice  had  a  new  ring  of 
truth  and  cheerfulness  in  it. 

The  distinct  tones  reached  the  ears  of  a  woman 
in  a  widow's  cap  who  knelt  by  an  open  window 
above.  With  dry  eyes  from  which  all  tears  had 
long  since  been  shed,  she  strained  her  gaze  after 
Stargarde  and  her  husband,  and  when  they  had 
vanished  she  threw  herself  on  the  floor,  and  with  a 
sob  of  thankfulness  prayed  for  the  best  of  blessings 
on  their  married  life. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  between  them  till  they 
reached  the  parade  in  the  center  of  the  town. 
There,  in  the  shadow  of  the  City  Hall,  Camperdown 
eyed  one  of  the  benches  on  the  grass  and  guided 
Stargarde' s  footsteps  to  it.  "You  are  tired,"  he 
said.     "  Let  us  rest  a  bit" 

In  three  minutes  she  was  sound  asleep  with  her 
head  on    his   shoulder.     Camperdown   drew    the 


HER   WEDDING    DAY 


473 


rawing  to 
the  quiet 
le,  God." 
her  own. 
D  a  little 
ippy." 
ietly  to  a 
As  they 
*  You  will 
ring  your . 

V  ring  of 

a  woman 
[1  window 
:ears  had 
;aze  after 
they  had 
id  with  a 
blessings 

till  they 
he  town, 
iperdown 
d  guided 
ired,"  he 

with  her 
Irew    the 


shawl  more  closely  about  her,  then  sat  thinking,  not 
at  all  of  the  historic  spot  that  they  were  on,  with 
its  old-time  memories  of  feux  de  joie  and  drilling 
of  troops,  nor  of  the  lords  and  the  ladies  of  ancient 
days  whose  fair  faces  used  to  brighten  the  old  stone 
building  that  stood  on  the.  site  of  the  present  City 
Hall,  nor  of  the  terrible  year  of  1 834  when  the  parade 
was  dotted  with  tar  barrels  sending  forth  volumes  of 
smoke  to  purge  the  air  from  the  trail  of  the  cholera 
demon.  Neither  did  his  thoughts  wander  to  the 
old  parish  church  across  the  street  whose  frame  was 
brought  from  Boston  in  the  year  1750,  and  whose 
timbers,  if  ihey  could  talk,  would  tell  many  a  tale 
of  gay  weddings,  and  pompous  buryings  of  gal- 
lant soldiers,  whose  bones  now  lie  mouldering  be- 
neath its  aisles.  No,  he  thought  only  of  the  woman 
by  his  side,  of  her  incomparable  worth  and  good- 
ness, of  the  little  claim  that  he  could  put  forth  to 
deserve  so  great  a  treasure,  until  a  shadow,  falling 
across  her  face,  caused  him  to  look  up. 

A  policeman,  who  had  been  observing  them  at 
a  distance,  had  at  last  drawn  near. 

"  Evening,  policeman,"  said  Camperdown.  **  Sit- 
uation is  peculiar,  but  can  explain.  I'm  not  a 
tramp,  and  I  think  you  know  my  wife." 

"  Know  her,"  said  the  man  lifting  his  helmet 
from  his  head,  "  I  have  cause  to  know  her,  sir." 

"She's  been  walking  and  is  tired,"  said  Camper- 
down.     •*  We're  just  on  our  way  home." 


474 


THE    HOUSE    OF   ARMOUR 


"Tis  too  heavy  a  contract  she's  been  under, 
sir,"  said  the  man  respectfully;  "one  woman  can't 
reform  a  city ;  but  she's  done  a  powerful  lot. 
Since  she  came  and  the  Salvation  Army  followed 
her,  they  say  the  badness  has  dropped  off  wonder- 
ful, and  there's  been  less  for  the  police  to  do." 

"How  long  have  you  been  on  the  force?" 
asked  Camperdown,  putting  an  end  of  the  shawl 
over  his  wife's  face. 

"Three  years,  sir;  'twas  your  wife  as  got  me 
on.  I'd  thrown  up  a  good  job  in  the  country  and 
come  to  the  city,  where  I  thought  I'd  better  my- 
self I  might  have  been  in  a  heathen  country  for 
all  the  notice  I  got.  Then  my  wife  died  and  my 
little  girl  got  fever  and  I  was  going  to  the  bad 
when  one  day  there  was  a  rustlin'  beside  me  just  as 
if  an  angel  had  dropped  down  from  the  sky " 

"The  angel,  I  suppose,  being  my  wife,"  said 
Camperdown  with  interest. 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  she  found  me  in  work,  and  I'm  a 
happy  man  to-day,  and  if  there  ever  was  any  mis- 
chief a-going  to  happen  to  her,  I'd  like  to  be  on 
the  spot,"  and  replacing  his  helmet  on  his  head  the 
man  ejaculated,  "Beg  pardon,  sir,  for  disturbing 
you,"  and  stalked  away. 

Camperdown  smiled  and  gently  shook  his  wife. 
"Come,  we  must  go  ;  you'll  get  a  stiff  neck." 

Stargarde  pulled  the  shawl  from  her  face,  blinked 
her  eyes  at  the  electric  lights  staring  at  her,  and 


en  under, 
man  can't 
erful  lot. 
y  followed 
if  wonder- 
)  do." 
I  force?" 
the  shawl 

LS  got  me 
)untry  and 
setter  my- 
;ountry  for 
;d  and  my 
:o  the  bad 
me  just  as 

sky " 

wife,"  said 

and  I'm  a 
is  any  mis- 
;  to  be  on 
lis  head  the 

disturbing 

k  his  wife, 
neck." 
ice,  blinked 
at  her,  and 


HER   WEDDING   DAY 


475 


gazed  at  the  back  of  the  retreating  policeman. 
"  Where  am  I  ?  Brian,  why  did  you  allow  me  to 
fall  asleep?  That  is  John  Morris,  isn't  it?  Mr. 
Morris,  how  is  your  little  girl  ?  " 

The  man  turned  and  came  back.  "Well  and 
hearty,  ma'am,  thank  you." 

"She's  a  dear  little  girl,  and  so  fond  of  you," 
said  Stargarde.  "Take  good  care  of  her.  Good- 
night, good-night,"  and  she  smiled  kindly  at  him. 

The  man  stood  with  hands  crossed  behind  his 
broad  back  until  she  was  out  o  sight  "  Looking 
at  her  it  seems  as  if  'twas  easy  to  be  good,"  he 
said  with  a  sigh. 

"  How  kind  you  are  to  me,"  Cnmperdown  heard 
in  his  wife's  musical  tones  as  they  were  about 
rounding  a  corner. 

"Am  I?"  meekly.  "What  is  the  latest  proof 
of  my  goodness  ?  " 

"  Bringing  me  out  to-night.  You  did  it  on  pur- 
pose to  make  me  more  contented." 

"Is  a  similar  excursion  to  take  place  eveiy 
night  ?  "  he  asked,  trying  to  hide  a  yawn  from  her. 

"  No,  no ;  you  ridiculous  boy,"  and  stopping 
short  she  put  up  her  other  hand  and  rested  her 
cheek  against  his  encircling  arm.  "  I  don't  believe 
that  there  is  another  man  in  the  world  who  would 
be  so  indulgent  to  me." 

"This  is  joy  double-distilled!"  he  exclaimed. 
"We  are  acting  that  picture." 


H    \ 


476 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


*'  What  picture,  dearest  ?  " 

**One  that  I  saw  somewhere,"  and  he  favored 
her  with  a  brief  description  of  it. 

"  You  mean  '  Married  Lovers  *  ?  " 

"Yes,  that's  it,"  he  said  excitedly.  "Go  on, 
please ;  keep  your  position  and  talk  some  non- 
sense to  me ;  you  are  irresistible  when  you  talk 
nonsense,  Stargarde.  Come  now,  you  think  me 
handsome,  don't  you  ?  " 

"Superlatively  handsome,  Brian,"  and  she 
laughed  gently  at  him. 

"  And  sweet-tempered  ?  " 

"  Exquisitely  so  ;  and  personally  I  have  no  ob- 
jection to  continuing  this,"  she  said,  lifting  her 
head  from  his  arm,  "  but  there  is  a  dear  old  man  in 
a  night-cap  at  that  window  over  there  who  is  peep- 
ing at  us  in  petrified  astonishment." 

"  Ugh !  you  brute,"  said  Camperdown,  turning 
to  shake  a  fist  at  him,  "go  and  get  married." 

"You  absurd  boy,"  said  Stargarde,  pulling  at 
his  arm  ;  "  come  home  ;  the  poor  creature  may  be 
married  already." 

"  Poor  creature  !  Stargarde,  do  you  think  mar- 
riage an  affliction  ?  "  And  then  Camperdown's  con- 
versation became  of  a  nature  too  personal  and 
sentimental  to  be  of  interest  to  any  one  but  to 
the  woman  who  loved  him  so  devotedly  that  in 
her  opinion,  "even  his  failings  leaned  to  virtue's 
side." 


le  favored 


"Go  on, 
some  non- 
i  you   talk 

think  me 

and     she 


ave  no  ob- 
lifting  her 
old  man  in 

ho  is  peep- 

wn,  turning 
ried." 
pulling   at 
ure  may  be 

think  mar- 
down's  con- 
irsonal  and 
one  but  to 
dly  that  in 

to  virtue's 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

BLIND 

VERY  quietly  the  warm  weeks  of  July  slipped 
away.  Valentine  had  long  since  recovered, 
but  had  not  yet  been  seen  beyond  the  precincts  of 
the  cottage. 

On  a  calm  Sunday  afternoon  Vivienne  left  Mrs. 
Colonibel's  room  and  went  to  wander  about  under 
the  pines.  Absently  straying  nearer  the  cottage 
than  she  was  in  the  habit  of  doing,  for  she  knew 
that  Valentine  did  not  wish  to  see  her,  she  sud- 
denly came  upon  him  lying  on  his  back  on 
a  grassy  knoll,  his  hands  crossed  under  his  head, 
his  face  turned  up  to  the  sky,  and  in  "  a  voice  as 
sweet  as  the  note  of  the  charmed  lute  "  caroling 
cheerfully  the  old  song  • 

r 

«''Twas  I  that  paid  for  all  things, 

•Twas  others  drank  the  wine  ; 
I  cannot  now  recall  things, 

Live  but  a  fool  to  pine. 
•Twas  I  that  beat  the  bush, 

The  bird  to  others  flew  ; 
For  she,  alas,  hath  left  me, 

Felero,  lero,  loo  !" 

477 


478 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


m  11 


With  a  pained  face  the  girl  stood  for  a  minute 
looking  at  him,  then  softly  attempted  to  withdraw, 
but  his  ear,  sharpened  to  unnatural  quickness,  caught 
the  sound  of  her  step,  light  as  it  was. 

"Who  is  that?"  he  asked.      "Joe,  is  it  you?" 

"  No,  it  is  I,"  said  Vivienne,  advancing  after  an 
instant  of  hesitation. 

•*  Oh  ! "  and  he  listlessly  dropped  his  head  on  the 
grass. 

"May  I  come  and  talk  to  you?"  she  asked. 
"  I  have  longed  to  see  you." 

"  Yes,  oh  yes,"  and  he  raised  himself  to  a  sitting 
posture.  "  I  would  get  up  and  find  you  a  seat  if 
I  could." 

"I  can  sit  on  this  rug,  thank  you,"  said  Vivienne 
a  little  unsteadily. 

She  placed  herself  a  short  distance  from  him 
and  looked  at  the  sombre  trees,  the  blue  sky,  the 
bluer  Arm,  where  a  tiny  boat  was  crossing  to  the 
other  side — anywhere  but  at  the  handsome,  weary 
face,  with  its  disfiguring  spectacles. 

"  Have  you  on  a  white  dress?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes." 

"And  you  have  your  favorite  perfume  about 
you,"  he  said  with  a  half-smile ;  "or  are  they  real 
roses?" 

"  Real  ones,"  and  she  put  between  his  fingers  a 
cluster  of  long,  white,  rose-shaded  Rubens  buds. 

"  You  are  crying,"  he  said  abruptly. 


BLIND 


479 


a  minute 
withdraw, 
^ss,  caught 

tyou?" 
y  after  an 

ead  on  the 

she  asked. 

to  a  sitting 
a  seat  if 

d  Vivienne 

from  him 
ue  sky,  the 
;ing  to  the 
)me,  weary 

ked. 

Lime  about 
e  they  real 

is  fingers  a 
ens  buds. 


"Only  a  little,"  she  murmured,  trjang  to  com- 
pose herself.  This  she  could  not  do  ;  for  once  she 
lost  all  self-control  and  burying  her  face  in  her 
hands  she  wept  bitterly. 

The  yourg  man's  face  softened  as  he  listened  to 
her.  "  Stanton  has  told  me  that  you  were  break- 
ing your  heart  about  me.  It  is  pitiful,  isn't  it? 
Twenty-five  and  at  the  end  of  everything.  But  don't 
worry ;  I've  given  that  up.  At  first  I  raved  and 
beat  my  head  till  it  was  sore  against  the  bars  of  my 
bed,  but  it  didn't  do  any  good.  I've  got  to  sub- 
mit," and  with  a  painful  smile  he  again  stretched 
himself  out  on  the  grass. 

"This  is  unpardonable  in  me,"  said  Vivienne, 
resolutely  wiping  her  eyes.  "  I  am  ashamed  of 
myself  I  shall  not  offend  again.  You  can  see  a 
little,  Valentine,  can  you  not?" 

"  Not  a  glimmer." 

Vivienne's  lip  trembled,  but  she  pressed  it 
with  her  teeth  and  went  on  :  "  When  are  you  com- 
ing up  to  the  house?     It  is  forlorn  without  you." 

"Never,"  he  said  gloomily.  "What  do  you 
want  of  me  there  ?  " 

"If  I  can  hear  your  exquisite  voice  singing 
words  of  encouragement  I  think  that  I  can  bear 
any  burden,"  said  the  girl  wistfully. 

"Oh,  you  wish  me  to  keep  you  in  good  humor." 

"It  would  be  an  important  mission.  I  have 
learned  the  accompaniments  of  all  your  songs." 


48o 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


"Have  you?"  and  his  face  grew  bright.  "1 
will  come  up — perhaps  this  evening.  Were  you 
planning  to  go  to  church  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  I  would  rather  stay  at  home  with 
you." 

"Even  if  Stanton  goes?" 

"Yes." 

He  laughed  shortly,  and  with  none  of  the  fierce 
jealousy  of  former  days  said  :  "  We  shall  be  good 
friends,  you  and  I,  when  I  settle  down  to  this  dark- 
ness." 

"  May  I  read  to  you  sometime  ? "  asked  Vivi- 
enne. 

"How  clever  you  are,"  he  said.  "You  have 
found  out  that  I  hate  to  have  any  one  do  anything 
for  me  and  you  want  to  wheedle  me  into  getting 
accustomed  to  it.  No,  my  dear  belle-sceur,  you 
shall  not  read  your  Bible  and  psalm  books  to  me." 

Vivienne  smiled  hopefully.  "  Sometime  you  will 
allow  me  to  do  so,  and  while  we  wait  for  that  time 
there  are  other  books.  Now  I  must  return  to  the 
house.  Au  revoivy  my  brother ;  God  will  make  you 
happier." 

"There  is  no  God  !"  he  exclaimed. 

She  looked  down  at  his  mocking  face  and  then 
up  at  the  serene  vault  of  the  sky  above  them. 
"  No  God !  Valentine ;  no  Creator  of  the  world  ! 
I  had  hoped  that  by  this  time  you  would  think 
differently." 


BLIND 


481 


ght.       "1 

/ere  you 
)me  with 


the  fierce 

be  good 

this  dark- 

ked  Vivi- 

You  have 
•  anything 
to  getting 
sosury  you 
cs  to  me." 
le  you  will 

that  time 
jrn  to  the 

make  you 


and  then 
ove  them. 
:he  world  ! 
ould  think 


"Prove  to  me  that  there  is  one,"  he  said  ex- 
citedly, "  and  I  will  believe  you." 

She  stooped  and  laid  a  finger  on  his  sightless 
eyes. 

He  understood  her.  "  Do  you  think  that  your 
imaginary  God  has  afflicted  me  willfully  ?  " 

"Not  willfully,  but  lovingly." 

"  This  is  infuriating,"  he  exclaimed,  his  face  flush- 
ing violently.  "  A  loving  God  who  casts  a  created 
thing  into  a  dark  pit ! " 

"Oh no,  nO;"  said  Vivienne  sadly;  "the  creature 
does  that.  We  cast  ourselves  into  dark  pits  because 
we  will  not  see  the  light  of  the  world  shining 
above  us." 

"  But  we  are  created  with  evil  propensities  that 
take  us  pitward,  according  to  you." 

"  Evil  propensities  that  we  must  not  follow,  for 
God  will  also  give  us  strength  to  overcome  them  if 
we  ask  him." 

"This  is  Stargarde's  doctrine,"  he  said  sullenly. 
"I  want  none  of  it.  You  Christians  are  most 
illogical  people.  Primitive  traditions,  handed  down 
through  eighteen  centuries  and  starting  among 
ignorant,  unlettered  peasants  and  fishermen,  are 
your  rule  of  life.  You  can't  prove  a  single  one  of 
your  statements  to  be  true." 

"What  is  proof?"  asked  Vivienne. 

"  Proof?  Why  it  is  enough  evidence  about  a  thing 
to  convince  one  and  produce  belief." 

2F 


482 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


1 1 


li  h 


II   ;i'! 


!1    il 


"And  you  think  that  Christians  do  not  have 
that  ?  " 

*'  Decidedly  not" 

*'  I  think  that  you  are  mistaken.  Have  you  read 
the  Bible  through  ?  " 

"No." 

"  I  believe  that  is  often  the  case  with  people  who 
criticise  it,"  she  said  thoughtfully.  "  But  you  are 
acquainted  with  portions  of  it.  Can  you  read  with- 
out tears  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  and  the  ac- 
count of  the  crucifixion  ?  " 

He  made  no  reply  to  her,  and  she  continued, 
"  If  you  take  our  Bible  away,  what  will  you  give 
us  to  keep  our  feet  from  stumbling  in  the  darkness 
of  this  world  ?  " 

"Let  us  rely  on  ourselves,"  he  said  proudly. 
"  Man  needs  no  surer  guide  than  his  own  internal 
conviction  of  right  and  wrong.  That  is  better  than 
trusting  to  a  fable." 

"  I  do  not  think  that  we  get  on  well  when  we 
take  charge  of  ourselves,"  she  said  gently. 

"  I  don't  set  myself  up  for  a  pattern,"  he  said 
hastily ;  "I've been  bad — ^you  don't  know  how  bad 
I've  been." 

"  Poor  Valentine,"  she  murmured. 

"  You  need  not  pity  me.  I  was  perfectly  happy. 
You  goody-goody  people  talk  a  lot  about  sinners' 
consciences  troubling  them.  They  don't.  One 
isn't  afraid  of  anything  but  being  found  out." 


not  have 


eyou 


read 


)eople  who 

it  you  are 

read  with- 

id  the  ac- 

continued, 
[  you  give 
e  darkness 

d  proudly. 
m  internal 
etter  than 

111  when  we 

,"  he  said 
how  bad 


ptly  happy. 
lut  sinners' 
)n't.     One 
lout." 


BLIND 


483 


"  If  a  conscience  sleeps,  how  can  it  guide  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  intended  to  let  mine  wake  up  some 
day,  then  I  would  sober  myself  and  lead  a  steady 
life.  Don't  go  yet.  Tell  me  more  about  your  be- 
liefs." 

She  cast  a  pitying  glance  at  his  restless,  unhappy 
face,  and  again  sat  down  beside  him.  **  I  cannot 
argue  learnedly  with  you,  Valentine.  I  can  only 
say  that  I  believe  in  God  and  in  his  Son  our 
Saviour,  who  will  forgive  our  sins  if  we  ask  him, 
and  that  I  believe  in  the  Bible  as  his  revealed 
word,  and  that  I  know  I  shall  go  to  him  when  I 
die.     It  is  a  very  comfortable  belief" 

"  Comfortable  !  yes,  for  you  ;  not  so  comfortable 
for  the  poor  fellows  whom  you  damn." 

"  *  God  sent  not  his  Son  into  the  world  to  con- 
demn the  world,  but  that  the  world  through  him 
might  be  saved,'  "  repeated  Vivienne. 

"An  attractive  myth,"  he  said  lightly;  "and  you 
Christians  won't  expose  it." 

**  Why  should  one  doubt  a  thing  that  one  is  sure 
of?  "  asked  the  girl  with  a  puzzled  face.  "Here  is 
proof  enough  for  me  :  our  glorious  faith  has  been 
the  light  of  the  world  ;  apostles,  prophets,  and 
martyrs  have  died  triumphantly  for  it ;  Christians 
are  the  salt  of  the  earth,  and  if  you  had  your  way 
and  cast  every  Bible  into  the  sea,  our  land  would 
become  a  dreary  wilderness  of  shame  and  con- 
fusion." 


484 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


r  ( 


%  1 


"  Fanaticism  ! "  said  Valentine ;  "  the  Mohamme- 
dans talk  as  wildly  as  you  do." 

"Do  not  compare  Mohammedanism  with  our 
holy  religion.  Christ  came  with  peace  on  his  lips, 
Mohammed  with  a  sword  in  his  hand.  And  what 
has  Mohammedanism  done  for  the  countries  where 
it  is  even  now  decaying?  " 

"It  solidified  them,"  said  Valentine  lightly. 
"  So  I  have  read.  And  all  Mohammedans  don't  live 
up  to  the  precepts  of  the  Koran,  you  know." 

"  Mohammedanism  is  rent  by  frightful  quarrels, 
and  if  you  have  read  about  it  you  know  the  im- 
morality of  many  of  its  religious  teachers " 

"So  are  Christians  immoral." 

"  That  is  because  they  do  not  live  up  to  the 
teachings  of  our  divine  model.  But  I  do  not  know 
that  it  is  of  very  much  use  to  argue  with  you,  Val- 
entine. You  misunderstand  so  sadly.  I  have  heard 
you  reasoning  with  others — notably,  one  evening 
when  you  spoke  of  the  crucifixion.  You  said  that 
Jesus  Christ  could  not  have  died  in  six  hours  on 
the  cross,  that  he  was  only  unconscious  when  they 
bore  him  away  to  the  tomb.  I  wished  to  say,  his 
broken  heart — broken  by  the  sins  of  the  world ; 
you  forget  that — but  I  was  too  much  agitated.  I 
think  that  we  can  only  pray  for  you " 

"I  do  not  wish  your  prayers,"  he  said  quickly; 
"  and  I  am  not  unhappy  as  you  think  I  am — that 
is,  about  religious  matters.     You  mistake  me." 


BLIND 


485 


►hamme- 

vith  our 

his  lips, 

ind  what 

es  where 

lightly, 
don't  live 


>> 


quarrels, 
V  the  im- 


M 


p  to  the 
ot  know 

you,  Val- 

ave  heard 
evening 
said  that 
lours  on 

rhen  they 
say,  his 
le  world ; 

jtated.     I 

»» 

quickly ; 
am — that 


me. 


>> 


"  If  you  think  that  my  religion  is  a  delusion  my 
prayers  will  not  affect  you,"  said  Vivienne  ;  "  but 
have  you  not  a  lingering  belief  in  the  creed  of  your 
forefathers  ?  " 

"No,"  he  said  stoutly,  "I  have  not." 

"Stanton  has,"  she  murmured  happily  ;  "I  could 
not  marry  him  if  he  had  not." 

"You  are  young,"  pursued  Valentine  ;  "do  you 
ever  feel  a  horror  of  death  ?  What  do  you  think 
would  become  of  you  if  a  thunderbolt  should  fall 
from  the  sky  and  strike  you  dead  ten  minutes  from 
now  ?  " 

"What  do  you  fancy  would  become  of  me?" 
she  asked  softly. 

"I  do  not  know." 

"  But  I  know,"  said  the  girl,  looking  with  joyful 
eyes  on  the  splendor  of  the  setting  sun.  "  I  know 
whom  I  have  believed,  and  I  do  not  fear  death, 
because  I  know  that  when  my  soul  leaves  this  body 
there  is  prepared  for  it  a  dwelling  more  glorious 
than  anything  I  can  imagine.  That  is  the  end  of 
my  belief,  *  I  knaw!  and  the  end  of  yours  is,  *  I  do 
not  know.' " 

He  turned  his  blind  face  toward  hers  and  pic- 
tured to  himself  its  transfigured  expression. 

"Will  you  not  come  to  the  house  now?"  she 
said  quietly.  "Stanton  will  be  delighted  to  find 
you  there  for  tea." 

"  I  suppose  you  think  that  I  am  too  wicked  to  be 


486 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


left  alone,"  he  said  as  he  stumbled  to  his  feet  and 
put  his  hand  in  hers. 

"No,  I  do  not,"  she  said. 

"  You  and  Stargarde  are  as  much  alike  as  a  pair 
of  twin  doves,"  he  grumbled  as  he  moved  slowly 
along  beside  her. 

Stanton,  returning  home  half  an  hour  later, 
stopped  short  in  the  hall,  struck  by  the  long  un- 
heard sound  of  music  in  the  drawing  room. 

•'  Cast  thy  burden  upon  the  Lord  and  he  shall 
sustain  thee,"  came  welling  on  a  soft  sweet  volume 
of  song  through  the  house. 

He  drew  back  the  portiere.  Valentine  stood 
leaning  on  the  piano,  his  face  calm  and  peaceful, 
his  unseeing  eyes  in  their  glasses  turned  toward 
Vivienne,  who  sat  with  downcast  eyelids  playing 
for  him. 

At  the  close  of  the  song  Armour  entered  the 
room.  "Is  it  you,  old  man ? "  asked  the  singer. 
"  Your  pretty  bird  lured  me  here.  Don't  be  jeal- 
ous of  me,"  he  continued  childishly,  and  feeling  his 
way  toward  the  place  where  Armour  stood  with 
features  painfully  composed.  "  I'm  tired  of  women 
— except  as  sisters,"  he  added  with  an  apologetic 
gesture  in  Vivienne's  direction. 

"  Let  there  be  no  talk  of  jealousy,"  said  Armour, 
laying  his  hand  affectionately  on  Valentine's  shoul- 
der. "  You  and  Vivienne  will  henceforth  be  brother 
and  sister." 


feet  and 


as  a  pair 
d  slowly 

ur  later, 
long  un- 
1. 

he  shall 
it  volume 

ine  stood 
peaceful, 
d  toward 
s  playing 

tered  the 
he  singer, 
t  be  jeal- 
feeling  his 
:ood  with 
of  women 
ipologetic 

Armour, 
ne's  shoul- 
De  brother 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 


ADIEU   TO    FRISPI 


ZILLA  CAMPERDOWN  was  strutting  up  and 
down  Holfis  Street  after  the  fashion  of  a 
small  peacock  airing  itself  Back  and  forth  she 
went,  now  in  front  of  the  shops,  now  passing  hotels 
where  gentlemen  smoking  and  lounging  stared 
curiously  at  the  well-plumaged  little  creature  in 
her  white  and  black  garments. 

She  was  doing  wrong  to  be  parading  the  streets 
alone,  that  she  very  well  knew,  but  she  was  enjoy- 
ing herself  so  hugely  that  she  made  no  haste  to  go 
home,  and  continued  to  complacently  spread  the 
tail  of  her  little  white  dress  while  sunning  herself  in 
the  glances  of  admiration  bestowed  upon  her  dark, 
piquaftte  face. 

Her  only  fear  was  that  her  adopted  brother 
might  suddenly  come  upon  her.  If  he  did  she 
knew  that  she  would  receive  a  sharp  scolding  and 
would  probably  be  sent  to  bed,  but  willing  to  snatch 
the  present  moment  she  did  not  allow  this  to  inter- 
fere with  her  enjoyment  A  strict  rule  with  regard 
to  her  was  that  she  must  never  set  foot  in  the  street 
alone.     Her  idle,  dissolute  father  still  haunted  the 

487 


1  ^ 


488 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


streets  of  Halifax,  and  although  he  was  too  wise  to 
attempt  any  interference  with  her,  knowing  that 
he  might  stop  the  supplies  of  food  and  clothing 
that  he  received  from  Camperdown,  he  often  lurked 
about  waiting  for  a  chance  to  hold  some  conversa- 
tion with  her.  Hence  the  order  that  she  should 
always  be  accompanied  during  her  walks  abroad. 

The  child's  punishment  came  swiftly  upon  her. 
Sauntering  up  the  hill  from  Water  Street  with  his 
monkey  on  his  shoulder  and  a  troop  of  children  at 
his  heels,  Gilberto  Frispi  suddenly  appeared  and 
came  face  to  face  with  his  daughter. 

"Ah,  little  bird,"  he  ejaculated  in  Italian  patois^ 
while  the  monkey  screamed  and  chattered  in  de- 
light and  clutched  its  tiny  hands  toward  Zilla's  lace 
hat;  "is  it  thou  at  last?  I  have  longed  to  see 
thee,  but  thou  art  not  allowed  to  fly  far  from  thy 
nest" 

Scarcely  knowing  what  she  did  the  girl  turned 
and  walked  back  toward  the  hotels.  Her  mortifi- 
cation was  intense,  and  if  a  glance  could  have  killed 
the  smiling  Frispi  he  would  have  fallen  dead  by  the 
side  of  the  daughter  whom  he  presumed  to  address. 
She  was  exasperated  too,  almost  beyond  endurance, 
at  the  children  who  were  hooting  and  shrieking 
with  delight  at  the  acrobatic  feats  of  the  monkey  on 
Frispi's  shoulder. 

"Send  them  away,"  she  exclaimed,  stopping 
short 


ADIEU    TO    FRISPI 


489 


)0  wise  to 
ving  that 
[  clothing 
en  lurked 
conversa- 
lie  should 
abroad, 
upon  her. 
:t  with  his 
hildren  at 
eared  and 

ian  patois, 
red  in  de- 
Zilla's  lace 
ed  to  see 
from  thy 

jirl  turned 
er  mortifi- 
lave  killed 
ead  by  the 
o  address, 
mdurance, 
shrieking 
nonkey  on 

,  stopping 


"Scatta,  my  children,"  said  Frispi  in  English, 
"go  roun'  de  corna.     I  come  lata." 

'•  With  your  organ  ? "  inquired  his  expectant 
youthful  followers,  to  whom  an  Italian  with  a 
monkey  and  minus  an  organ  partook  of  the  nature 
of  a  phenomenon. 

"  Yes,  yes.  I  got  organ,"  said  the  man  menda- 
ciously.    "  Five,  six  organ.     I  bring.     Go  'long." 

They  looked  at  him  as  trustingly  as  if  they  ex- 
pected to  find  musical  instruments  issuing  from  his 
pockets,  then  went  to  peep  around  the  corner  and 
listen  surreptitiously  to  the  conversation  between 
him  and  his  elegant  companion. 

"What  do  you  wish?"  asked  Zilla  sharply. 

"Oh  ze  beauty  clothes!"  exclaimed  Frispi 
spreading  his  hands  over  her  in  delight.  Then 
relapsing  into  Italian  he  told  her  in  eager  tones 
of  his  longing  to  have  her  with  him.  "  Could  she 
not  leave  her  fine  friends  and  run  away  with  him?" 

"  Hold  thy  tongue,"  said  Zilla  scornfully  inter- 
rupting him.  "  I  wish  no  more  of  thee.  Thou 
must  leave  this  town." 

"  No,  no,  my  loved  one,  not  till  thou  canst  go." 

"Thou  shalt  go  alone — at  once,  never  to  return," 
she  said,  hissing  the  words  through  her  pointed 
white  teeth  that  looked  as  if  they  might  bite  him. 
"  I  hate  thee  and  thy  poverty ;  and  art  thou  not  a 
thief?  " 

"Si,  si,"  he  said  blandly;  "and  thou  also?" 


490 


THE   HOUSE  OF   ARMOUR 


m 


hS 


ri 


"Thou  art  worse,"  she  said  furiously,  but  in  a 
low  tone,  for  she  was  desperately  aware  that  she 
was  being  surveyed  curiously  not  only  by  the 
children,  but  also  by  some  of  the  gentlemen  in  the 
hotel  windows. 

"  I  am  thy  father,"  said  the  man  with  a  flash  of 
anger,  for  he  rarely  relapsed  into  a  passion  unless 
he  had  been  drinking. 

"Who  stabbed  Constante?"  breathed  the  girl. 
"Ah,  thou  startest !  I  did  not  always  sleep  when 
thou  entertainedst  thy  friends.  And  if  thou  dost 
not  leave  here,  I  write  at  once  to  the  Mafia  and 
thou  wilt  be  declared  infamous.  A  cross  will  be 
drawn  on  thy  door,"  and  she  made  gestures  with 
her  hands  signifying  the  choking  of  a  person. 

The  man's  olive  skin  turned  to  a  greenish  pallor 
and  he  kept  his  small  black  eyes  fixed  pleadingly 
on  her  face.  "Surely  thou  wouldst  not  do  that, 
my  daughter.  The  Mafia  is  implacable  and  the 
companions  would  consider  me  a  traitor  and  put 
me  to  sleep  for  what  was  a  mistake.  It  was  not  in 
my  heart  to  kill  Constante." 

"  Thou  hast  soft  shoes ;  thou  canst  walk  back- 
ward," said  Zilla  inexorably.  "  By  sundown  if  thou 
art  here  I  write  to  Guglielmo  Barzoni,  and  thou  art 
doomed." 

"Enough,"  replied  the  man  with  a  gesture  of 
resignation.  "Thou  art  thy  mother's  child.  Thou 
canst  do  all  and  more  than  thou  promisest.     Thou 


ADIEU   TO    FRISPI 


491 


y,  but  in  a 
re  that  she 
tily  by  the 
imen  in  the 

h  a  flash  of 
jsion  unless 

2d  the  girl, 
sleep  when 
f  thou  dost 

Mafia  and 
ross  will  be 
sstures  with 
erson. 
snish  pallor 

pleadingly 
lot  do  that, 
)le  and  the 
or  and  put 
t  was  not  in 

walk  back- 
own  if  thou 
nd  thou  art 

gesture  of 
lild.  Thou 
sest.     Thou 


wilt  never  see  me  more,"  and  with  no  other  sign 
of  emotion  beyond  his  unusual  pallor,  he  noiselessly 
left  her  and  in  polite  broken  English  postponed  his 
engagement  with  the  children  until  the  next  day, 
at  which  time  they  would  return  and  wait  anxiously 
for  the  man  whose  shadow  would  fall  no  more  on 
the  streets  of  Halifax. 

Zilla  began  to  tremble  as  soon  as  he  left  her. 
The  interview  with  him  had  been  a  terrible  strain 
on  her,  yet  she  courageously  tried  to  make  her 
way  home.  At  the  street  corner  she  paused  and 
leaned  against  a  house  One  of  the  gentlemen  at 
the  window  seeing  this,  left  his  station  there  and 
came  slowly  sauntering  up  to  her. 

"Good-morning,"  he  said  kindly.  "Do  you 
remember  me  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  you  are  Mr.  Patrick  Macartney's  brother," 
she  said,  "  and  I  am  Dr.  Camperdown's  little  girl, 
and  that  bad  beggar-man  frightened  me.'* 

"  Will  you  come  into  the  hotel  and  rest  ?  "  he 
asked;  noting  in  some  anxiety  that  her  two  small 
feet  were  braced  against  the  pavement  to  keep  her 
from  falling. 

She  drew  herself  up  suspiciously :  "  No,  thank 
you." 

"  There  is  a  ladies'  entrance,"  he  said,  pulling 
severely  at  his  moustache. 

"  I  am  going  to  see  my  brother,"  she  said  loftily, 
and   leaving  him  without  a  word  she,  by  a  severe 


ill 


!    fj 


;:''.# 


492 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


■|Ff 


effort,  managed  to  walk  as  far  as  the  door  having 
on  it  the  brass  plate,  "  Dr.  Camperdown,  Surgeon." 
Arrived  there,  she  tottered  inside  and  seated  her- 
self on  the  lowest  step  of  the  staircase,  while  Cap- 
tain Macartney,  passing  by  the  open  doorway, 
knew  that  she  would  be  safe  now,  and  went  on  his 
way  muttering  thoughtfully,  "Poor  child  !" 

After  she  had  rested  sufficiently  Zilla,  with  lips 
firmly  compressed,  clim^bed  the  steps  to  the  waiting 
room  and  seated  herself  among  her  adopted  broth- 
er's patients. 

The  next  time  Camperdown  opened  the  door  he 
saw  her  and  called  her  into  the  inner  room.  "  Now, 
birdling,  what  is  it  ?  Be  quick,  for  I  am  rushed  this 
morning.  What's  the  matter  with  your  cheeks  ? 
Have  you  seen  a  ghost?  " 

'*I  have  done  a  bad  thing,"  said  the  little  girl 
deliberately. 

"  Indeed  !  An  unusual  confession  for  you.  I 
thought  that  you  and  the  pope  had  the  infallibility 
of  the  world  between  you.     Out  with  it." 

"  I  have  told  my  father  to  leave  Halifax." 

"  H'm — ^well,  yes,  that  was  bad — for  you.  What 
was  the  occasion  of  it?"  and  by  means  of  questions 
he  drew  from  her  an  account  of  her  meeting  with 
Frispi  after  she  had  run  away  from  Mrs.  Trotley, 
who  had  gone  shopping  with  her." 

"What  do  you  know  about  the   Mafia,  Zilla?  " 

With  a  reluctance  that  she  would  not  have  dis- 


ADIEU    TO    FRISPI 


493 


loor  having 
I,  Surgeon." 
seated  her- 
,  while  Cap- 
n  doorway, 
went  on  his 
Id!" 

la,  with  lips 
)  the  waiting 
3pted  broth- 

the  door  he 
om.  "Now, 
1  rushed  this 
)ur  cheeks? 

le  little  girl 

for  you.     I 
e  infallibility 
it." 
ifax." 

you.    What 

of  questions 

neeting  with 

VIrs.  Trotley, 

afia,  Zilla?" 
ot  have  dis- 


played three  months  earlier  in  her  career,  Zilla  gave 
a  child's  account  of  low  brigandage  according  to 
her  observation  of  her  father  and  his  associates. 

"  Stop,"  said  Camperdown  at  last,  when  she  was 
describing  the  disarticulation  of  the  fingers  -of  the 
'' picciottV  so  that  they  might  be  more  expert  at 
stealing,  "  never  mention  this  again,  Zilla.  Don't 
let  a  living  soul  know  that  you  were  familiar  with 
such  iniquities.  The  Lord  in  his  mercy  has  deliv- 
ered you  from  them.  Now,  what  do  you  want  me 
to  do  about  your  father?  " 

The  child  hung  her  head.  "  Tell  him  to  stay, 
for  I  do  not  wish  Stargarde  to  know  that  I  would 
do  so  bad  a  thing.  Tears  will  come  in  her  eyes 
and  she  will  say  :  *  Your  father  is  all  that  you  have  ; 
do  not  send  him  away  as  a  dog '." 

Camperdown's  thoughts  ran  back  to  the  day 
when  he  had  acquainted  Zilla  with  her  relationship 
to  Stargarde.  The  child's  passion  of  astonishment 
and  joy  when  she  found  that  she  was  connected 
with  a  woman  whom  she  not  only  loved  and  ad- 
mired, but  who  was  the  acme  of  respectability  to 
her,  had  not  seemed  to  decrease  as  time  went  by. 
She  still  loved  him  more  intensely  perhaps,  but 
Stargarde  was  her  pride  and  delight,  her  own 
blood  relation,  and  the  person  in  the  world  for 
whom  she  had  the  most  reverence. 

"Run  home  and  tell  her  all  about  it,"  said 
Camperdown  softly.     *•  In  the  meantime  I  will  look 


i 

i 


494 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


I     flilli! ' 


m  ' 


's  . 


1       5'  '  I 


up  Frispi,"  and  patting  Zilla's  relieved  face,  he  sent 
her  away. 

"  Ha,  sir,  were  you  addressing  me  ? "  said  his 
next  patient  fiercely,  as  he  hobbled  into  the  room. 

Camperdown  stared  blankly  at  a  choleric  old 
gentleman.  "  No^was  talking  aloud  as  I  have  a 
habit  of  doing.     What  was  I  saying?  " 

"  *  Low,  stealthy  brute,'  sir,  you  said,  *  and  a  con- 
stant worry  to  me.'  " 

Camperdown  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed 
heartily.  "  I  crave  your  pardon.  I  was  thinking 
of  a  pensioner  of  my  wife's — a  miserable  foreigner 
that  I  hope  has  been  frightened  from  the  town." 

Long  after  his  usual  lunch  time  Camperdown  ar- 
rived home  to  find  Stargarde  and  Zilla  waiting  for 
him — the  latter  hanging  about  her  half-sister  with 
red  eyes  and  glances  of  suppressed  adoration. 

"  Have  been  all  over  the  town,"  said  Camper- 
down ;  "  there's  no  trace  of  Frispi  to  be  had.  He 
went  to  his  lodging,  gathered  up  his  few  belongings, 
and  left.     The  police  are  on  his  track " 

"  He  will  not  be  found,"  said  Zilla  quietly  and 
despairingly.     **  He  knows  how  to  run  away." 

"  I  propose,"  said  Camperdown,  seating  himself 
at  the  table,  "  to  have  something  to  eat  now.  Sub- 
sequently, to  take  my  wife  and  Zilla  and  Mrs.  Trot- 
ley  for.  a  drive  to  Cow  Bay.  Don't  carry  your 
bathing  suit,  Zilla ;  it's  too  late  in  the  day  for  a 
plunge  in  the  breakers.     We'll  have  a  run  over  the 


I 


*ace,  he  sent 

?"  said  his 
o  the  room. 
:holeric  old 
IS  I  have  a 

*  and  a  con- 

nd  laughed 
as  thinking 
)le  foreigner 
le  town." 
perdown  ar- 
L  waiting  for 
[f-sister  with 
)ration. 
id  Camper- 
le  had.  He 
belongings, 


ADIEU   TO    FRISPI 


495 


ft 


quietly  and 

away." 

ting  himself 
now.    Sub- 

d  Mrs.  Trot- 
carry  your 

e  day  for  a 

run  over  the 


sands.  Then  I  propose  two  weeks  hence  to  take 
my  wife  and  Zilla  vagabondizing— that  is,  in  the 
earliest  sense  of  the  word.  We'll  stroll  about  this 
continent  and  see  if  we  can't  pick  up  some  trace 
of  the  runaway " 

He  was  interrupted  by  Zilla,  who  precipitated 
herself  into  his  arms. 

"  A  little  girl  with  a  sleeping  conscience  is  rather 
a  ticklish  possession,  isn't  she?"  he  said,  address- 
ing his  smiling  wife  over  Zilla's  bent  head.  "A 
little  girl  with  an  awakened  conscience  is  something 
very  precious  and  must  be  treated  with  very  great 
care." 


M 


M 


iid 


M,!. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 


THE   GHOST   FLOWER 


l    1 


l:i  t; 


"  ly  TE  no  diggum  up,"  said  Joe  decidedly. 

IVX  He  stood  knee  deep  in  pale  green  ferns 
growing  among  heavy  shadows  formed  by  the  inter- 
laced branches  of  trees  overhead,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
a  group  of  etherially  white  flowers  springing  up 
from  the  richest  of  leaf  mould  on  a  mossy  bank  at 
a  little  distance  from  him. 

Vivienne  knelt  by  the  wax-like  cluster  of  flower 
interrogation  points  in  speechless  delight,  while 
Armour  stood  above  her  saying  in  quiet  amuse- 
ment, "  Why  don't  you  dig  it  up,  Joe  ?  " 

"Galium  ghos'  flower,"  said  Joe  doggedly; 
"spirits  angry  when  touchum.  Come  'way.  Miss 
Debbiline." 

His  voice  was  really  concerned,  but  Vivienne 
looked  at  him  with  a  gay  laugh  and  continued  to 
touch  with  caressing  finger  tips  the  beautiful,  un- 
earthly flower,  which  was  furnished  with  colorless 
bracts  in  place  of  green  leaves. 

"  If  I  were  to  wear  a  few  of  these  to  the  *  draw- 
ing room  *  my  decoration  would  be  unique,  would 
it  not?  "  she  said  to  Armour. 
496 


THE   GHOST   FLOWER 


497 


iedly. 
yreen  ferns 
y  the  inter- 
ns fixed  on 
ringing  up 
isy  bank  at 

[•  of  flower 
ght,  while 
let  amuse- 
doggedly  ; 
way,  Miss 

t  Vivienne 
ntinued  to 
lutiful,  un- 
h  colorless 

the  'draw- 
\\iQf  would 


"  Decidedly  unique,"  he  said.  "  Have  you  ever 
heard  any  poetry  about  this  curious  flower?  " 

"No,  never." 

"Then  let  me  repeat  to  you  some  exquisite  lines 
by  a  Canadian  poet,  impressed  by  observing  that 
the  stalks  and  blossoms  form  interrogation  points. 
Remember  that  this  determines  the  cast  of  the 
sonnet,"  and  he  recited  with  great  taste  : 

* '  Like  Israel' s  seer  I  come  from  out  the  earth, 
Confronting  with  the  question  air  and  sky, 
Why  dost  thou  bring  me  up  ?    White  ghost  am  I 

Of  that  which  was  God' s  beauty  at  its  birth. 

In  eld  the  sun  kissed  me  to  ruby  red, 

I  held  my  chalice  up  to  heaven's  full  view, 

The  August  stars  dropped  down  their  golden  dew, 

The  skyey  balms  exhaled  about  my  bed. 

Alas,  I  loved  the  darkness,  not  the  light ; 
The  deadly  shadows,  not  the  bending  blue. 
Spoke  to  my  tranced  heart,  made  false  seem  true. 

And  drowned  my  spirit  in  the  deeps  of  night. 
O  Painter  of  the  /lowers,  O  God,  most  sweet, 
Dost  say  my  spirit  for  the  light  is  meet  ? ' ' 

"Alas,  the  poor  flower  ! "  said  Vivienne.  " Like 
some  mortals  it  loved  the  darkness  rather  than  the 
light.     And  yet  how  touching  the  final  question." 

"Yes,"  said  Armour  quietly,  "a  regret  has  been 
born  even  among  'the  deadly  shadows.'  " 

"  Will  you  not  repeat  to  me  some  more  of  those 
things  that  you  repeat  so  well?"  asked  Vivienne 
demurely. 

2G 


lt!J 


'i\. 


I    !    If 


ML 


'^   '> 


11 


*   PI 


498 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


Bareheaded  and  standing  with  his  back  against 
a  tree,  Armour  murmured  to  her  the  praises  of 
another  fairy  glen  in  far-distant  Wales,  a  place 
peopled  with  sh>     inds, 

"Whose  fitful  plumes  waft  dewy  balm 
From  all  the  wildwood,  and  let  fall 
An  incommunicable  calm." 

Then  dropping  on  his  knees  on  the  ground  he 
said,  "Give  me  your  clasp  knife,  Joe." 

"  Me  no  give  you  big  knife,"  said  the  super- 
stitious Christmas ;  "  me  'fraid  for  Miss  Debbiline. 
Spirits  killum  if  touch  ghos'  flower,"  and  he  re- 
treated farther  among  the  ferns. 

Armour  laughed  as  he  bent  his  light  head  over 
the  flower  that  he  was  about  to  wrest  from  its  home 
among  the  "sweet  wood's  golden  glooms." 

"  Do  you  think  it  will  grow  if  we  plant  it  in  the 
greenhouse?"  asked  Vivienne,  as  she  watched  her 
lover  carefully  insinuating  a  sharp-pointed  stone 
among  the  decayed  leaves  of  many  seasons. 

"  I  scarcely  think  so,  but  we  can  try  it,"  and 
Armour  carefully  carrying  the  fragile  ghost  flower 
in  his  handkerchief  walked  by  her  side  down  the 
woodland  path  to  the  shore  of  a  tiny  cove  where 
Joe's  canoe  lay  drawn  up  on  the  grass. 

"Where  is  that  Indian?"  he  said,  looking 
about  him  when  after  the  lapse  of  a  few  minutes 
Joe  did  not  appear.    "  He  is  as  subtle  as  a  snake." 


THE   GHOST   FLOWER 


499 


ck  against 

praises  of 

3,  a   place 


n 


ground  he 

the  super- 
Debbiline. 
ind  he  re- 

■  head  over 
m  its  home 


i> 


s. 

it  it  in  the 
atched  her 
ited  stone 
ons. 

Y  it,"  and 
lost  flower 
down  the 
ove  where 

d,  looking 
w  minutes 
J  a  snake." 


"One  can't  expect  obedience  from  a  Micmac," 
observed  Vivienne  gently. 

"  No ;  he  hates  coercion,  and  too  many  orders 
would  drive  him  from  us.  I  don't  suppose  there 
is  another  Micmac  in  Nova  Scotia  who  serves 
white  people  as  he  serves  us.  It  is  phenomenal 
to  get  anything  from  them  beyond  assistance  in 
hunting.  We  had  better  go  on.  He  is  evidently 
afraid  to  venture  in  the  canoe  with  this  flower. 
Ah,  there  he  is.     Joe,  aren't  you  coming?  " 

The  Indian  was  lazily  drawing  his  long  legs  over 
the  pebbly  beach.     "  No  ;  me  stay." 

"Surely  you  are  not  afraid  of  this,"  said 
Armour,  teasingly  holding  up  the  ghost  flower. 

"  Me  no  'fraid  for  Joe.  Me  'fraid  spirits  makeum 
Miss  Debbiline  bad  luck." 

"  Say  a  prayer  to  keep  the  trouble  away.  You 
are  a  good  Catholic." 

"Wirgin  no  hearum.  She  angry  when  spirits 
angry." 

"You  have  your  new  religion  mixed  with  old 
superstitions,  Joe,"  said  Mr.  Armour  as  he  assisted 
Vivienne  into  the  canoe  and  placed  himself  in  the 
stem.  "I'll  send  Jerry  back  for  you,"  and  he 
pushed  out  from  the  shore. 

While  they  were  crossing  the  Arm,  Armour 
looked  thoughtfully  from  the  flowers  at  his  feet 
across  to  the  Pinewood  beach  where  Mrs.  Colonibel 
was  walking  up  and  down  in  the  warm  sunlight. 


mm 


H  ;  I. 


|l  -! 


500 


THE   HOUSE  OF   ARMOUR 


"Suppose  the  Indian  is  right,"  he  said  jestingly, 
**  what  new  calamity  do  you  suppose  is  overshadow- 
ing us?  " 

"The  postponement  of  our  marriage." 

"  No,  Vivienne ;  this  day  fortnight  we  shall  be 
away  from  here." 

"  Ah,  yes  ;  do  not  let  us  think  of  the  contrary," 
she  said  wistfully.  Then  wishing  to  change  the 
subject  she  continued,  "Flora  seems  quiet  and 
distraite  lately." 

"  She  is  ashamed  of  herself  I  think  that  she  is 
going  to  be  a  better  woman  in  the  future." 

"She  does  not  seem  unhappy,"  said  Vivienne 
thoughtfully. 

"  No,  nor  does  she  make  you  unhappy ;  if  she 
did " 

"You  would  forgive  her,"  said  Vivienne  quickly. 
"  How  fortunate  for  Valentine  that  she  will  be  here 
while  we  are  away ;  and  she  must  not  leave  when 
we  come  back." 

"  She  will  not ;  you  need  not  fear.  She  is  too 
comfortable  here,  and  while  she  is  agreeable  to  you 
she  may  stay." 

"  Why  are  you  so  kind  to  me  ?  "  asked  Vivienne 
with  a  sudden  accession  of  mischief 

He  looked  steadily  at  her.  "  There  has  been  a 
good  deal  of  mutual  kindness  between  maids  and 
men  since  the  world  began.  It  is  the  natural 
thing." 


d  jestingly, 
vershadow- 


M 


/e  shall  be 

contrary," 

:hange  the 

quiet   and 

that  she  is 

3  Vivienne 

ipy ;  if  she 

ne  quickly, 
/ill  be  here 
leave  when 

She  is  too 
ible  to  you 

d  Vivienne 

has  been  a 

maids  and 

he  natural 


THE   GHOST   FLOWER 


501 


"And  when  one  grows  old,"  pursued  the  girl, 
"  how  is  it  then  ?    Do  old  people  love  each  other  ?  " 

"Sometimes,  not  always." 

"  Often,  very  often  they  do,  misguided  man,"  she 
said  warmly.  "Love  does  not  end  with  youth. 
When  I  am  old  and  feeble,  and  sitting  helpless  in 
my  chair,  you  will  still  call  me  '  darling '  and  will 
wrap  me  in  shawls  and  bring  me  cups  of  tea." 

"  If  I  am  able  to  get  about,"  he  said  with  a  com- 
ical grimace.      "  Remember  that  I  am  the  elder." 

The  girl  was  sitting  cross-legged  in  the  canoe,  the 
tips  of  her  shoes  just  peeping  from  beneath  her 
white  gown.  At  his  words  she  laid  a  hand  on  her 
side,  leaned  back,  and  burst  into  gay  and  spontane- 
ous laughter. 

"I  forgot,"  she  said;  "you  will  be  in  the  chair. 
It  will  be  I  who  must  serve  you  and  call  you  my 
dearest  of  old  men.  I  will  do  it,  Stanton,"  de- 
murely sobering  herself;  "  and  when  you  wish  to 
hobble  to  and  fro  I  will  offer  you  my  shoulder  to 
lean  upon." 

"  Thank  you  ;  I  have  no  doubt  but  that  we  shall 
be  an  amiable  pair." 

"It  seems  strange,  does  it  not?"  said  Vivienne 
wonderingly,  "  to  think  of  the  time  of  old  age.  We 
are  both  young  and  strong  now,  yet  the  day  will 
come  when  we  must  give  place  to  others.  I  think 
that  I  shall  enjoy  being  an  old  lady,  Stanton,  your 
old  lady,  not  another  man's." 


1 


502 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


I     t 


ii  i 


ii 


r'i 


Ji 


.h& 


He  opened  his  mouth  to  answer  her,  then  closed 
it  again  and  began  paddling  more  vigorously,  for 
on  lifting  up  his  eyes  he  had  seen  his  father  stand- 
ing beside  Mrs.  Colonibel  and  watching  them.  He 
could  no  longer  enjoy  Vivienne's  girlish  chatter,  and 
in  silence  steered  toward  the  landing  place. 

The  girl  too  saw  her  prospective  father-in-law 
and  slightly  shivered.  His  affectionately  familiar 
manner  since  her  engagement  was  not  pleasing  to 
her,  and  she  avoided  all  intercourse  with  him  be- 
yond that  which  was  strictly  necessary. 

"  I  must  become  sober,"  she  said,  "  in  prepara- 
tion for  this  evening.  It  is  a  very  solemn  affair 
that  we  are  to  attend,  is  it  not?  " 

"  Not  solemn,  but  a  trifle  ceremonious.  You  do 
not  dread  it,  do  you  ?  " 

"A  little.  You  know  that  I  have  not  cared  to 
appear  in  public  since  my  unhappy  experience  the 
night  of  your  ball." 

"  I  know,  but  we  are  rarely  honored  by  the  pres- 
ence of  our  governor-general,  and  I  thought  the 
opportunity  of  being  presented  too  valuable  a  one 
to  lose.  However,  if  you  do  not  care  to  go,  we 
shall  stay  at  home." 

"  I  wish  to  go,  Stanton." 

"And  remember,  your  father  will  soon  be  rein- 
stated in  public  opinion.  MacDaly  sticks  to  it  that 
he  accidentally  burnt  the  warehouse,  though  he  will 
tell  me  nothing  more.     As  soon  as  I  work  up  this 


Mm 


THE   GHOST    FLOWER 


503 


then  closed 
orously,  for 
ither  stand- 
them.  He 
:hatter,  and 
ice. 

Lther-in-Iaw 
;ly  familiar 
pleasing  to 
th  him  be- 

n  prepara- 
emn  affair 

i.    You  do 

t  cared  to 
rience  the 

r  the  pres- 
ought  the 
able  a  one 
to  go,  we 


n  be  rein- 
i  to  it  that 
gh  he  will 
rk  up  this 


latest  clue  to  your  father's  whereabouts  I  shall  make 
public  MacDaly's  confession  and  state  that  I  have 
good  recison  to  believe  that  your  father  is  guiltless 
of  the  other  charge  against  him." 

"But  will  you  be  believed,  Stanton?  " 

"I  think  so." 

"You  are  so  much  respected,"  she  said,  "every 
one  will  trust  you,  though  you  have  no  positive 
proof" 

"Yet  I  wish  I  had  it,  Vivienne." 

"You  sigh,"  she  returned,  "and  yet  you  are  not 
unhappy,  are  you  ?  " 

"Unhappy?  No;  I  was  never  so  near  happi- 
ness in  my  life." 

"  Near  it  and  not  quite  there,"  she  responded, 
as  they  glided  into  the  shadow  of  the  boat-house. 

She  it  was  who  usually  did  the  talking  when 
they  were  together.  Armour  had  a  way  of  listen- 
ing to  her  and  looking  unutterable  things.  Just 
now  he  took  her  hand  and  held  it  a  minute  in 
silence. 

"Just  think  that  thought  aloud,"  she  said  curi- 
ously. 

He  seemed  to  be  overcoming  some  scruple  to 
voice  his  emotion,  then  he  said  in  a  choking  voice  : 
"  I  may  be  foolish,  but  there  is  a  horrible  suspicion 
upon  me  that  we  are  at  a  crisis  in  our  affairs.  I 
may  have  to  give  you  up.  If  I  do — if  I  do,  Vivi- 
enne, it  will  kill  me  as  surely  as  if " 


^1 


M.ll 


:':i  S-  r  !! 


flii 


rtvi« 


M 


504 


THE    HOUSE    OF    ARMOUR 


"Stop,  stop,"  she  said,  playfully  putting  her 
hands  up  to  her  ears.  "  I  will  not  hear  such  tragic 
nonsense.  Who  is  there  that  would  come  between 
us?" 

"  Your  father." 

"Then  he  will  be  no  father  of  mine."  And 
proudly  tossing  her  dark  head,  she  sprang  from 
the  canoe  and  ran  away  from  him  to  hide  her  tear- 
ful eyes. 

A  few  hours  later  Judy  Colonibel  was  tiptoeing 
about  a  group  of  three  people  who  stood  with  more 
or  less  agitated  faces  in  the  Pinewood  drawing  room. 
They  had  not  yet  become  fully  accustomed  to  Val- 
entine's blindness,  and  upon  tbis,  the  first  occasion 
of  leaving  him  to  go  to  one  of  the  scenes  of  festivity 
in  which  he  had  formerly  taken  so  much  pleasure, 
two  at  least  of  the  group  of  three  felt  their  hearts 
wrung  with  compassion. 

His  face,  however,  was  perfectly  calm  as  he  sat 
astride  a  chair  listening  to  Judy's  description  of 
their  appearance. 

"They  are  all  in  white,  Valentine,"  she  said  en- 
thusiastically, "and  they  look,  as  MacDaly  says, 
'  deliciously  delicate  and  palatably  perfect.'  What 
are  you  saying  ?  That  you  think  it  must  be  rather 
trying  to  Stanton  ?  Foolish  boy,  he  has  on  his  usual 
evening  clothes.  Mamma's  dress  is  satin,  Vivienne's 
silk,  and  they  both  have  litde  white  plumes  in  their 
hair — mamma  three  with  lace,  and  Vivienne  two 


THE   GHOST   FLOWER 


505 


putting  her 
r  such  tragic 
ime  between 


M 


line.  "  And 
sprang  from 
ide  her  tear- 
as  tiptoeing 
d  with  more 
awing  room, 
med  to  Vai- 
rst  occasion 
s  of  festivity 
ch  pleasure, 
their  hearts 

1  as  he  sat 
3cription  of 

he  said  en- 
:Daly  says, 
ct.'  What 
3t  be  rather 
3n  his  usual 
Vivienne's 
les  in  their 
i^ienne  two 


with  a  veil.    Why,  Flora  Colonibcl,  where  are  your 
diamonds?     You  ought  to  be  in  a  blaze,  to-night." 

A  painful  color  overspread  Mrs.  Colonibcl' s  face. 

"Flora,"  said  Armour,  "go  and  put  on  your 
jewels.  I  insist"  And  his  eyes  followed  hei  in 
satisfaction  as  she  slowly  left  the  room. 

"And  our  dear  blackbird  wears  her  pearls,"  con- 
tinued Judy,  squeezing  Vivienne's  hand,  "a  beauti- 
ful string  that  I  fancy  a  man  soon  to  become  a 
relation  by  marriage  has  given  her,  and " 

"Has  she  no  flowers?"  inquired  Valentine  with 
animation. 

"My  ghost  flowers!"  exclaimed  Vivienne. 
"Where  are  they?" 

"  I  was  hoping  that  you  would  forget  them,"  said 
Armour  with  a  laugh. 

"Have  you  too  become  superstitious?"  asked 
Vivienne.     "What  did  you  do  with  the  plant?  " 

"  I  sent  it  to  the  cellar  to  be  kept  cool.  I  will 
ring  for  it." 

"  Here  is  the  carriage,"  said  Judy  skipping  to 
the  window ;  "and  here  comes  Uncle  Colonel.  Let 
me  put  on  your  cloak,  Vivienne.  Good-bye,  Miss 
Polar  Bear  from  the  frozen  North,  you  are  all  white 
and  glittering.  Take  good  car*,  v'^her  and  mamma, 
Stanton.  Valentine  and  I  are  going  to  have  a  good 
time  practising." 

It  was  a  very  gay  and  excited  city  that  the  Pine- 
wood  party  drove  through  on  their  way  to  the  Pro- 


5o6 


THE   HOUSE   OF    ARMOUR 


iiiii 


vincial  building.  Nowhere  is  there  a  more  loyal 
province  than  Nova  Scotia.  Any  representative 
of  her  majesty  is  duly  honored,  but  on  this  occa- 
sion the  citizens  had  risen  with  one  accord  to  wel- 
come a  man  who  was  popular  among  them  rot 
only  on  account  of  his  social  position,  but  because 
he  had  shown  himself  to  be  a  true  and  wise  friend 
to  the  Nova  Scotian  people. 

Therefore  houses  were  illuminated,  decorations 
were  displayed,  and  troops  of  citizens  and  country 
visitors  paraded  the  streets,  or  sat  at  the  windows 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  a  torchlight  procession  that 
was  escorting  the  vice-regal  party  about  the  city. 

On  nearing  the  Provincial  building  the  Armours* 
carriage  was  obliged  to  move  more  slowly  on  ac- 
count of  the  dense  throng  of  sightseers,  and  upon 
a  sign  from  a  policeman  the  coachman  drew  up  his 
horses  and  they  came  to  a  standstill. 

Lusty  cheering  and  a  salute  from  a  guard  of 
honor  explained  the  cause  of  the  delay  to  the  occu- 
pants of  the  carriage.  Their  excellencies  were 
arriving,  and  Mrs.  Colonibel,  who  had  participated 
in  several  functions  of  the  kind  before,  drew  back 
to  allow  Vivienne  to  see  the  striking  effect  of  the 
entrance  into  the  old  stone  building  of  the  repre- 
sentative of  royalty,  his  wife,  and  his  suite,  and 
their  reception  by  the  premier  of  the  province  and 
the  members  of  the  government. 

As  soon  as  there  was  a  passage  made  through 


I  more  loyal 
epresentative 
)n  this  occa- 
xord  to  wel- 
ig  them  rot 
but  because 
d  wise  friend 

decorations 
and  country 
the  windows 
)cession  that 
it  the  city, 
he  Armours* 
lowly  on  jic- 
s,  and  upon 

drew  up  his 

a  guard  of 
to  the  occu- 
liencies  were 
participated 
,  drew  back 
effect  of  the 
)f  the  repre- 
s  suite,  and 
)rovince  and 

ide  through 


THE   GHOST    FLOWER 


& 


507 


the  crowd,  Armour  preceded  the  tv/o  ladies  up  the 
crimson-decorated  stairway  to  the  dressing  rooms. 
Very  soon  they  were  with  him  and  Colonel  Armour 
again,  and  as  they  stood  waiting  for  the  line  of 
people  before  them  to  pass  on.  Armour  whispered 
to  Vivienne,  *•  You  are  not  nervous,  are  you?  " 

"  No,  not  very,"  she  replied  smilingly. 

"  Keep  behind  Flora,  and  do  as  she  does.  The 
first  aide-de-camp  will  pass  up  your  card." 

Vivienne  had  a  dazzling  impression  of  a  lofty 
apartment  hung  with  large  oil  paintings  and  having 
groups  of  plants  and  masses  of  flowers  here  and 
there,  a  number  of  officers  in  brilliant  uniform  on 
her  left  hand,  and  on  the  other  a  flock  of  snowy 
dames  and  gentlemen  in  sombre  garments  who  had 
already  been  presented. 

Immediately  before  her  was  the  attraction  for  all 
eyes  in  the  room — a  dais  on  which  the  central 
figures  were  a  dark,  vivacious  man  in  the  court 
uniform  of  an  imperial  councillor,  and  a  bejeweled 
woman,  who  was  smiling  and  bowing  her  gracious 
head  not  alone  with  precision  and  accuracy,  but 
with  a  quickness  of  intelligence  and  apprehension 
that  caught  the  individual  characteristics  of  each 
person  that  passed  before  her. 

Lord  Vaulabel,  when  he  heard  the  clear,  distinct 
enunciation  of  Vivienne's  name  turned  ever  so 
slightly  toward  the  lieutenant-governor  who  sup- 
ported  him   on   his    right   hand.     There  was   an 


/  #r— " 


,t :,! 


'  <t 


t  i 


Il'w- 


1 1 


508 


THE   HOUSE  OF   ARMOUR 


almost  imperceptible  smile  and  a  glance  of  intel- 
j  ligence  which  Vivienne  did  not  perceive  while 
.making  graceful  courtesies  before  the  dais. 

Drawing  a  breath  of  relief  she  took  her  station 
beside  her  chaperon  and  watched  other  people 
going  through  the  ceremony  of  presentation. 

"There  are  some  handsome  gowns  here  this 
evening,"  murmured  Mrs.  Colonibel  to  Vivienne. 

"And  handsome  women,"  responded  the  girl, 
surveyii'-^  in  approbation  some  of  her  clear-skinned, 
finely  pi  o  lioned  countrywomen  ;  "  we  are  so 
much  out  oi  ioors — women  here  take  so  much  ex- 
ercise— their  appearance  of  perfect  health  is  owing 
to  that,  do  you  not  think  so?  " 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  her  companion  absently. 
"What  a  delicious  bow  the  consul's  daughter 
makes,  and  her  gown  is  a  dream.  I  am  so  glad 
that  she  is  to  be  one  of  your  brid'^smaids.  Do  look 
at  old  Daddy  Fayley  pulling  his  forelock  at  his 
excellency.  This  is  an  omnium  gatherum^''  and  the 
lady  looked  about  her  a  trifle  disdainfully. 

"A  new  country  has  not  the  polish  of  an  old 
one.  Flora,"  said  Vivienne  ;  "it  would  be  unnatural 
if  it  had,  and  Lord  and  Lady  Vaulabel  do  not  ex- 
pect it. 

"There  is  Uncle  Colonel,"  said  Mrs.  Colonibel; 
"I  thought  he  came  in  with  us." 

"  He  stopped  to  speak  to  some  one,"  said  Vivi- 
enne ;  and  her  eyes  followed  Colonel  Armour  with 


\\-\\\ 


THE   GHOST    FLOWER 


509 


nice  of  intel- 

Tceive   while 

;  dais. 

c  her  station 

3ther  people 

mtation. 

ns  here  this 

0  Vivienne. 
led  the  girl, 
lear-skinned, 
"we  are  so 
so  much  ex- 
alth  is  owing 

on  absently. 
I's  daughter 
am  so  glad 
ds.  Do  look 
elock  at  his 
ivty'  and  the 
illy. 

h  of  an  old 
be  unnatural 

1  do  not  ex- 

5.  Colonibel ; 

,"  said  Vivi- 
\rmour  with 


painful  interest  as  he  entered  the  room,  remarked 
by  all  on  account  of  his  handsome,  courtly  appear- 
ance and  the  indomitable  youthfulness  of  his  old 
age.  When  he  paused  to  bow  with  inimitable  grace 
and  respect  before  Lord  and  Lady  Vaulabel  they 
observed  him  attentively,  and  Vivienne  noticed  their 
glances  subsequently  wandering  to  him. 

"A  glorious  devil,"  quoted  a  gentleman  behind 
Vivienne,  who  was  staring  at  Colonel  Armour  and 
keeping  up  a  series  of  ren'.arks  unheard  by  any  one 
but  the  friend  into  v/hose  ears  they  were  confided  ; 
"large  in  heart  and  brain,"  he  went  on,  "that  did 
love  beauty  only." 

"Devil  indeed,"  murmured  the  other;  "no  saint 
would  live  on  as  he  does.  He's  outlasted  all  his 
generation.  He  reminds  me  of  an  old  rat  in  one 
of  my  father's  vessels  plying  between  here  and 
Boston.  Nothing  would  kill  him,  not  even  a 
change  of  cargo  to  tar  paper  and  paraffin  oil,  which 
knocked  off  all  the  others.  This  old  fellow  wouldn't 
give  in  and  never  would  be  caught,  till  one  day  a 
sailor  found  him  behind  a  box  in  the  forecastle,  his 
head  nodding  till  finally  he  fell  over  dead." 

"  No  such  luck  with  Holy  Jim,"  said  the  other 
with  a  suppressed  laugh.  "  He's  good  for  twenty 
years  yet.  Have  you  heard  his  latest?"  and  he 
began  to  retail  a  morsel  of  savory  scandal. 

Sometime  after  midnight  the  last  presentation 
was  made  ;  Lord  and  Lady  Vaulabel  were  escorted 


m 


I   !J 


i 


1    I 


4-W 


11  Hi 


Jiii: 


■■i  li 


5IO 


THE    HOUSE   OF    ARMOUR 


to  the  ballroom,  and  the  official  quadrille  was 
formed.  A  little  later,  when  some  members  of  the 
vice-regal  party  had  seated  themselves  in  a  number 
of  high-backtd  chairs  provided  for  them.  Lord 
Vaulabel  with  one  of  his  quick,  eager  gestures  that 
made  him  seem  more  like  a  French  than  an  Eng- 
lish nobleman,  bent  over  his  wife  and  said  in  a  low 
voice,  "Winifred,  you  will  not  forget?" 

She  smiled  at  him.  "  No,  I  will  not."  Then  as 
he  left  her  she  turned  and  spoke  to  the  lieutenant- 
governor,  who  immediately  started  on  what  seemed 
to  be  an  aimless  wandering  about  the  ballroom  and 
the  adjoining  corridor.  Presently  he  came  upon 
the  person  that  he  was  seeking,  as  she  stood  with 
upturned  face  looking  at  the  paintings  in  the  legis- 
lative chamber. 

"  Mr.  Armour,"  he  said  politely  to  her  compan- 
ion, "will  you  surrender  Miss  Delavigne  to  my 
charge  for  a  while  ?  Lady  Vaulabel  expresses  a 
wish  to  see  her." 

Very  willingly  Mr.  Armour  saw  his  fiancee  led 
away  and  sauntered  closely  enough  behind  her  to 
see  her  raise  her  dark  eyes  in  reverence  to  the  face 
of  one  of  the  most  distinguished  women  in  the 
British  Empire. 

Lady  Vaulabel  would  not  permit  a  second 
courtesy,  and  taking  the  girl's  hand  seated  her  be- 
side her  own  chair.  Charmed  with  her  sweetness, 
her  kindness,  her  unmistakable  air  of  distinction, 


THE   GHOST    FLOWER 


511 


uadrille  was 
mbers  of  the 
in  a  number 
them,  Lord 
gestures  that 
lan  an  Eng- 
>aid  in  a  low 


M 


."  Then  as 
;  lieutenant- 
vhat  seemed 
►allroom  and 
came  upon 
stood  with 
in  the  legis- 

ler  compan- 
igne  to  my 
expresses  a 

;  fiancee  led 
hind  her  to 
i  to  the  face 
men  in  the 

a    second 

ited  her  be- 

r  sweetness, 

distinction, 


and  the  affability  of  her  manner,  Vivienne  gazed 
at  her  in  admiration  and  in  pleased  surprise  at  the 
honor  conferred  upon  her,  an  honor  presently  ex- 
plained by  a  few  words  from  Lady  Vaulabel. 

"  Your  ancestors  were  the  Delavignes  of  Orleans, 
were  they  not?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  your  excellency,  they  were." 

"His  excellency  wishes  to  speak  to  you  of  them. 
Possibly  you  may  have  heard  some  tradition  of  a 
relation  once  existing  between  the  two  families — 
that  of  my  husband  and  the  Delavignes  ?  " 

"  No,  your  excellency,  I  have  not ;  but  I  know 
that  the  earls  of  Vaulabel  are  of  French  origin." 

Lady  Vaulabel  smiled  graciously  and  was  about 
to  make  some  further  observations  when  she  was 
interrupted  by  a  plaintiv  e  ejaculation  that  made  her 
raise  her  eyes  quickly. 

"Madeleine,  Madeleine,"  the  voice  was  mur- 
muring ;  "  Madeleine,  my  beloved." 

The  sentimental  tones  issued  from  the  mouth  of 
an  old  gentleman  who  had  an  air  of  being  one  of 
the  fathers  of  the  town — a  father  who  had  evidently 
not  been  confining  himself  to  the  ice  cream  and 
cooling  drinks  served  before  the  supper,  but  had 
been  indulging  in  something  stronger. 

"  Madeleine,  will  you  not  come  with  me  ?  "  and 
the  foolish  old  figure  straightened  itself  "  Dela- 
vigne  is  dead.  I  have  seen  his  ghost,  dnd  it  had 
white  hair.     Now  you  can  marry  me." 


ih  .! 


!    it;.|: 


.'.ii 


!;l 


Ci  ;?■  :• 


m 


i'  i*f 


.si'"' 


y»''«  i 


512 


THE    HOUSE    OF    ARMOUR 


What  nonsense  was  Colonel  Armour  talking? 
Vivienne  looked  in  deep  mortification  at  Lady 
Vaulabel,  who  had  laid  a  detaining  hand  on  her 
arm.  .  Her  excellency's  glance  also  detained  two 
watchful  military  aides-de-camp^  who  at  a  sign  from 
her  would  have  thrust  each  an  arm  through  those 
of  the  senile  disturber  of  her  conversation  and 
walked  him  away.  She  had  recognized  the  foolish 
old  man.  It  was  Colonel  Armour,  who  was  suffer- 
ing from  a  state  of  collapse,  both  mental  and  phys- 
ical, and  horribly  changed  from  the  gallant  old  man 
who  had  been  presented  to  her  earlier  in  the  even- 
ing. 

"Your  excellency,"  murmured  Vivienne,  "Col- 
onel Armour  is  a  very  old  man,  and  lately  he  has 
been  subject  to  strange  lapses  of  memory.  He 
will  recover  himself  presently." 

The  words  had  scarcely  left  her  lips  when  the 
bent  figure  raised  itself,  and  a  voice  rang  like  a 
trumpet  through  the  ballroom  : 

"Delavigne  is  a  milksop  and  a  fool !" 

A  kind  of  petrefaction  seized  the  large  assem- 
bly. Every  one  stood  still.  The  dancers  about  to 
take  their  places  paused  in  astonishment,  and  the 
amazed  orchestra  held  in  embarrassment  their 
voiceless  instruments. 

A  black-coated  waiter  went  gliding  like  a  snake 
through  the  motionless  groups.  It  was  MacDaly 
who  had  managed  by  a  stroke  of  diplomacy  to 


aMMi 


f^'^-i 


THE   GHOST    FLOWER 


513 


)ur  talking? 
on  at  Lady 
hand  on  her 
letained  two 
a  sign  from 
irough  those 
rsation  and 
i  the  foolish 
3  was  suffer- 
il  and  phys- 
lant  old  man 
in  the  even- 

enne,  "Co!- 
tely  he  has 
:mory.     He 

)s  when  the 
rang  like  a 

irge  assem- 
ers  about  to 
^nt,  and  the 
ment    their 

ike  a  snake 
as  MacDaly 
plomacy  to 


have  himself  engaged  as  one  of  the  servants  for 
the  evening.  He  had  reveled  in  the  splendor  of 
the  scene  about  him,  and  had  gurgled  frequently  in 
delight  as  he  withdrew  corks  irom  bottles  or  ladled 
ice  cream  from  freezers,  "  This  is  auriferous ;  this 
is  golden." 

Now  he  saw  a  chance  to  distinguish  himself; 
now  he  would  strike  a  blow  for  the  honor  and 
glory  of  MacDaly. 

"  Your  most  serene  and  exalted  magnificence," 
he  cried  in  a  shrill  voice,  which  extended  to  the 
farthest  corner  of  the  crowded  room,  as  he  dropped 
on  one  knee  before  Lord  Vaulabel,  who  had  placed 
himself  beside  his  wife,  "  the  notorious  gentleman 
known  as  Colonel  Armour  speaks  the  truth,  for  of 
a  verity  the  man  called  Delavigne  was  by  him  be- 
fooled and  gulled  and  ruined,  and  'tis  I,  Derrick 
Edward  Fitz-James  O*  Grady  MacDaly,  once  hum- 
ble corporal  in  the  regiment  commanded  by  your 
late  most  glorious  and  regretted  parent,  the  right 
honorable  the  Earl  of  Vaulabel,  that  can  prove — " 

Greatly  to  MacDaly's  surprise  he  was  obliged  to 
rattle  off  the  latter  part  of  his  speech  on  the  way 
back  to  the  tea  room,  whither  he  was  guided  by 
sundry  constraining  hands  laid  upon  his- shoulders. 

Colonel  Armour's  eyes  followed  him  in  bewilder- 
ment ;  then  suddenly  he  drew  himself  up,  looked 
about  the  room,  and  ejaculated  sharply :  "  What 
have  I  been  saying  ?  " 

2H  ^ 


m 


H4 


i'l:"  C 


V.lV 


:';:): 


,V';V  i: 


ilSfii, 


:!-:\;^'; 


514 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


No  one  answered  him.  But  he  caught  curious 
glances  from  staring  faces,  wonder  and  incredulity 
from  some,  aversion  and  formless  suspicion  taki.ig 
shape  from  others.  He  was  a  ruined  man  ;  he 
saw  it,  felt  it.  His  day  was  over.  His  jaw  shook  ; 
his  whole  frame  trembled.  He  had  said  something 
that  had  put  him  outside  the  pale  of  honorable  so- 
ciety and  had  crystallized  the  brilliant,  glittering 
throng  into  wondering  astonishment. 

One  parting,  sweeping  look  he  gave  about  the 
room,  his  eyes  coming  finally  to  Vivienne,  who 
stood  among  the  honored  guests  of  the  evening. 
The  Delavignes  had  triumphed.  His  head  dropped 
on  his  breast ;  he  shuffled  from  the  place  disgraced, 
ruined,  and  undone. 

One  step  followed  him,  one  firm,  manly  step 
echoing  down  the  wide  stone  hall.  Stanton  had 
quietly  committed  the  half-fainting  Mrs.  Colonibel 
to  the  care  of  some  friends  and  was  on  his  way  to 
overtake  the  lonely  old  figure  hurrying  from  the 
building. 


jght  curious 
1  incredulity 
icion  taki.ig 
:d  man  ;  he 
3  jaw  shook ; 
id  something 
onorable  so- 
it,  glittering 

e  about  the 
vienne,  who 
the  evening, 
ead  dropped 
:e  disgraced, 

manly  step 
5tanton  had 
•s.  Colonibel 
1  his  way  to 
ng  from  the 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

AT    LAST 

T  ORD  and  Lady  Vaulabel  withdrew  early  from 
-L/  the  ball  that  evening,  and  accompanying 
them  to  Government  House  went  a  very  white  and 
unnaturally  composed  girl.  Upon  reaching  their 
own  apartments,  the  two  distinguished  people  sat 
down  near  the  young  girl,  whom  they  were  treat- 
ing with  a  kind  and  exquisite  consideration,  which 
at  the  same  time  consoled  and  surprised  her  in  her 
perturbed  state  of  mind. 

Their  first  endeavor  was  to  draw  her  thoughts 
away  from  her  unhappy  lover,  whose  pale  set  face 
they  knew  was  haunting  her. 

"Lady  Vaulabel  tells  me,"  began  his  excel- 
lency, "that  she  was  about  to  explain  to  you  the 
mutual  obligations  that  the  founders  of  our  re- 
spective families  were  able  to  render  to  each 
other." 

"Yes,  your  excellency,  she  was." 

"  I  will  explain  to  you  the  way  *n  which  it  came 
about,"  said  Lord  Vaulabel  with  a  lightness  of 
manner  that  would  seem  to  belong  rather  to  the 
early  time  of  th  -  morning  than  to  the  late  hours  of 

5^5 


1 


! 


I    '! 


n: 


'1| 
t  i 


i^ 


Hi,!: 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 

a  fatiguing  day.  "In  1 5 1 5,  at  the  battle  of  Ma- 
rignan,  Roland  de  la  Vaulabelle  went  to  the  assist- 
ance of  a  young  foot-soldier,  the  son  of  a  merchant 
of  Orleans,  who  was  grievously  wounded  and  was 
trying  to  escape,  and  rescued  him  at  the  risk  of  his 
own  life.  For  this  and  other  deeds  of  v  he 
was  made  chevalier  after  the  battle  had  been  re- 
newed and  won  the  following  day." 

Lord  Vaulabel  paused,  and  Vivienne  murmured 
with  pale  lips  that  she  remembered  reading  of  the 
battle  in  the  history  of  France. 

"  Then  you  know  all  about  the  court  of  Francis 
I.,"  pursued  Lord  Vaulabel,  "  the  rot  des  gentils- 
hoinmes,  who  spent  the  money  of  his  subjects  with 
a  free  hand.  De  la  Vaulabelle  shared  in  the  ex- 
travagance of  the  court,  and  when  King  ^  icis, 
after  his  sojourn  in  Italy,  became  impressed  ^  the 
marvels  of  the  Renaissancey  de  la  Vaulabelle  took 
part  in  his  admiration  and  ordered  some  of  the  Italian 
architects  who  had  followed  the  king  to  France  to 
build  him  a  chateau  in  the  new  style  of  architec- 
ture. To  do  this  he  was  obliged  to  raise  a  loan, 
and  applied  to  the  elder  Delavigne,  who  had  been 
full  of  gratitude  for  his  rescue  of  his  son.  Dela- 
vigne advanced  him  the  money,  the  chateau  was 
built,  and  for  more  than  one  hundred  years,  until 
Guillaume  Delavigne  came  out  to  assist  in  founding 
Montreal,  there  was  much  kindness  between  the 
two  families.     The  Dalavignes  continued  to  lend 


is  V    3'       %      ■ 


AT    LAST 


S'7 


.attle  of  Ma- 
te the  assist- 
if  a  merchant 
ded  and  was 
le  risk  of  his 
of  V  he 
iiad  been  re- 

le  murmured 
iading  of  the 

rt  of  Francis 
i  des  gentils- 
subjects  with 
^d  in  the  ex- 
Ling  ^  icis, 
essed  j  the 
ulabelle  took 
:  of  the  Italian 
to  France  to 
i  of  architec- 

raise  a  loan, 
ho  had  been 
>  son.     Dela- 

chatcau  was 
d  years,  until 
it  in  founding 

between  the 
lued  to  lend 


money  to  the  de  la  Vaulabellcs,  and  the  dc  la  Vau- 
labelles  continued  to  be  powerful  friends  to  the 
Delavignes,  protecting  them  from  the  rapacity  of 
some  of  the  noblesse,  who  might  have  oppressed 
them." 

There  was  a  short  pause.  Vivienne  had  taken 
in  the  meaning  of  his  words,  but  found  herself  un- 
able to  make  any  remark.  Lord  Vaulabel  flashed 
a  quick  glance  at  his  wife,  as  if  he  were  seeking 
advice. 

With  a  sweet  warning  smile.  Lady  Vaulabel 
slightly  shook  her  head  and  looked  at  the  girl's 
pallid  face. 

"Miss  Delavigne,"  said  his  excellency  kindly, 
"  the  Vaulabels  do  not  forget.  I  often  linger  over 
the  romantic  records  of  the  days  of  old  ;  the  chiv- 
alrous feats  of  the  men  of  my  family  I  do  not  con- 
sider any  more  self-sacrificing  than  the  patient  help 
that  the  Delavignes  often  gave  them  at  great  incon- 
venience to  themselves.  You  will  therefore  under- 
stand my  motive  when  I  say  that  I  should  be  very 
glad  to  do  something  for  you — to  relieve  any 
anxiety  that  you  may  have." 

"  Your  excellency,"  said  Vivienne,  clasping  her 
gloved  hands  nervously,  yet  speaking  with  unex- 
pected firmness,  "  I  do  not  know  where  my  father 
is — it  has  seemed  almost  a  sacrilege,  in  view  of  my 
approaching  marriage,  yet  we  cannot  find  him.  I 
have  a  thought  now  that  he  may  be  in  France.    In 


Si8 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


hi.'  f*i ! 


view  of  what  has  passed  this  evening,  you  can  un- 
derstand my  unhappiness — my  distress " 

The  giri  was  suffering  intensely.  Lady  Vaula- 
bel's  thoughts  ran  away  to  Ottawa,  to  a  baby  girl 
in  a  cradle  there.  Some  day  her  child  too  would 
have  a  woman's  heart.  Her  lips  slightly  moved, 
and  her  husband  caught  the  words,  "Teii  her." 

•*  Miss  Delavigne,"  he  said  with  utmost  gentle- 
ness, **  I  can  give  you  some  news  with  regard  to 
your  father;  but,"  he  added,  a  little  startled  by  the 
sudden  change  in  her,  "  you  must  compose  your- 
self" 

Her  breast  rose  and  fell  convulsively,  she  cast 
down  her  eyes,  then  said  falteringly  :  "  I  beg  your 
excellency's  pardon.     You  may  tell  me  anything 


now. 


>> 


Lord  Vaulabel  sprang  up  with  a  nervous  gesture 
and  paced  the  carpet.  "  It  was  a  long  time  ago," 
he  said  with  assumed  lightness,  "nearly  twenty 
years — I  was  a  lad  traveling  through  Canada  with 
my  father.  We  were  on  our  way  west  on  a  hunt- 
ing expedition.  Boylike,  I  restlessly  wandered 
through  the  train  that  we  were  on,  delighted  by  the 
freedom  from  constraint  in  railway  traveling  to 
which  I  had  not  been  accustomed  in  our  English 
carriages.  We  were  on  our  way  to  Quebec,  when 
my  attention  was  attracted  by  the  unhappy,  dazed 
appearance  of  a  young  Frenchman,  who  remained 
always  in  one  attitude.     I  told  my  father  about 


■mix 


you  can  un- 


it 


Lady  Vaula- 
D  a  baby  girl 
Id  too  would 
;htly  moved, 
feil  her." 
most  gentle- 
th  regard  to 
irtled  by  the 
mpose  your- 

;ly,  she  cast 
"  I  beg  your 
ne  anything 

irous  gesture 
I  time  ago," 
arly  twenty 
Canada  with 
on  a  hunt- 
wandered 
jhted  by  the 
raveling  to 
our  English 
lebec,  when 
ippy,  dazed 
o  remained 
ither  about 


AT    LAST 


519 


him,  and  he  questioned  the  guard,  or  conductor,  as 
one  calls  that  official  here.  We  approached  the 
man — found  that  his  name  was  Delavigne.  I 
think.  Miss  Delavigne,  that  you  promised  to  be 
very  calm,"  he  said,  interrupting  himself  and  gazing 
in  pretended  quiet  amusement  at  his  listener. 

His  excellency  however  was  not  amused,  he  was 
intensely  interested  and  anxious. 

Vivienne  had  fallen  on  her  knees,  and  was  sob- 
bing over  Lady  Vaulabel's  hand.  "You  know  all 
— oh,  tell  me  more !  May  God  bless  you  for  your 
kindness  to  my  father." 

His  excellency  looked  at  the  kneeling  girl,  a 
auspicious  moisture  in  his  eyes — the  heart  of  a 
ruler  is  very  much  as  the  heart  of  another  man — 
then  lightly  turning  he  left  the  room. 

"Compose  yourself,  my  poor  child,"  murmured 
Lady  Vaulabel,  "your  father  is  with  us.  He  has 
been  one  of  my  husband's  secretaries  for  years." 

*' Mon  cher  Delavigne ^  how  often  have  I  told 
thee  not  to  write  till  this  hour,"  said  Lord  Vaulabel 
in  French,  as  he  entered  a  small  adjoining  room, 
where  a  slender  man  with  patient  dark  eyes,  white 
hands,  and  a  head  of  thick,  snowy  hair,  cat  with  all 
the  paraphernalia  of  a  secretary  about  him. 

The  secretary  pushed  back  his  folding  desk,  and 
rose  respectfully.  "I  could  not  sleep,  your  ex- 
cellency— not  if  I  were  in  bed.  Not  in  this  town," 
and  he  looked  expectantly  at  his  patron. 


■Hi, 


m 


'i  ■  ( 


N> 


520 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


« 


'Yes,  I  have  seen  her,"  said  Lord  Vaulabel,  as 
if  answering  a  question.  "She  is  beautiful  and 
good,  and  she  believes  in  her  father." 

*'Dieu  est  tout  misericorde  et  tout  sagesse^^  and 
the  man  reverently  bent  his  head  as  he  thus  spoke 
of  the  divine  compassion  and  wisdom.  He  had 
suffered  too  long  to  be  given  to  much  outward 
emotion. 

**Some  strange  revelations  have  bf'^n  made  to 
us,"  pursued  Lord  Vaulabel;  "but  >  u  will  learn 
all  from  your  daughter." 

"  Is  she  here  ?  "  asked  Delavigne  quietly. 

"Yes,"  and  with  a  face  more  excited  than  that 
of  his  secretary  the  nobleman  led  the  way  to  the 
drawing-  room. 

He  threw  open  the  door.  Delavigne  looked  in, 
saw  rising  up  before  him  with  glad  arms  extended 
a  girl  even  more  lovely  than  the  wife  of  his  youth. 
He  heard  her  eager  cry,  "My  father!"  made  a 
step  forward  and  caught  her  to  his  breast,  while 
Lord  and  Lady  Vaulabel  softly  withdrew  from  the 
room. 


Vaulabel,  as 
^autiful   and 


agesse,  and 
:  thus  spoke 
i.  He  had 
ch  outward 

*n  made  to 
u  will  learn 

etiy. 

d  than  that 

way  to  the 

i  looked  in, 
IS  extended 
'  his  youth. 
!"  made  a 
reast,  while 
V  from  the 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE   FATE   THAT    PURSUES    US 

JOE  CHRISTMAS  was  an  unhappy  Indian  after 
the  discovery  of  the  ghost  flower  across  the 
Arm. 

He  gazed  mournfully  toward  the  big  house, 
shook  his  head,  and  uttered  a  number  of  times  a 
long-drawn,  musical  "  Ah-a-a-a,"  of  regret  and  dis- 
may. Then  as  if  he  were  forced  to  it  by  some 
power  he  could  not  resist,  he  gave  most  touching 
proof  of  his  affection  and  respect  for  Vivienne. 

He  waited  until  he  had  seen  her  leave  the  house 
with  the  ill-omened  flowers  in  her  hand,  then  he 
launched  his  canoe  on  the  smooth,  dark  waters  of 
the  Arm,  and  went  through  the  blackness  and  soft- 
ness of  the  August  night  to  the  tiny  cove  that  he 
had  visited  with  Vivienne  and  Armour  through  the 
day. 

Upon  arriving  there  he  drew  his  canoe  from  the 
water,  put  his  cap  under  his  arm,  dropped  on  the 
ground,  and  took  out  his  beads.  Over  and  over 
his  prayers  he  went — it  was  not  terrifying  to  pray 
with  the  grass  under  his  knees  and  the  stars  over- 
head,  but  when  it   came  to    entering   the   spirit- 

521 


m 


t   .    i 


V   J   ,':. 


\n:r'' 


hi\m 


m 

m 


522 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


m'-n^ 


haunted  wood  his  heart  misgave  him.  Yet  he  per- 
severed, hobbling  over  the  ground  till  he  was 
under  the  trees  and  among  the  ferns,  and  finally 
beside  the  gaping  rent  in  the  leaf  mould  left  by  the 
abstraction  of  the  ghost  flower. 

Shuddering  in  every  limb,  and  beseeching  the 
Virgin,  the  Saints,  and  the  Great  Spirit  not  to 
avenge  the  theft,  he  detached  the  cross  from  his 
rosary  and  dropped  it  into  the  hole  as  an  offering 
to  the  offended  spirit  of  the  plant.  Then  spring- 
ing to  his  feet  he  ran  from  out  the  dreadful 
shadows,  leaped  into  his  canoe,  and  paddled  quickly 
and  in  a  relieved  manner,  not  to  his  camp  among 
the  spruces,  but  back  to  Pinewood  where  he  pur- 
posed remaining  till  Vivienne's  return  home  should 
convince  him  that  he  had  been  successful  in  his 
effort  to  propitiate  the  spirits  on  her  behalf 

He  stationed  himself  among  the  pines  in  front 
of  the  house,  occasionally  leaving  them  to  investi- 
gate the  origin  of  sounds  in  other  directions,  but 
always  coming  back  and  waiting  with  the  patience 
of  a  trained  hunter. 

Quite  early  in  the  evening  two  of  the  maids 
came  home  exchanging  with  accompanying  ad- 
mirers various  confidences  that  he  was  privileged 
to  hear.  Subsequently  the  admirers  went  home, 
and  the  maids  went  to  bed.  He  saw  the  lights  ex- 
tinguished in  their  rooms,  and  traced  Mammy 
Juniper  as  she  wandered  from  window  to  window, 


!l!!H 


THE    FATE   THAT    PURSUES    US 


523 


Yet  he  per- 

till   he  was 

3,  and  finally 

Id  left  by  the 

seeching  the 
>pirit  not  to 
OSS  from  his 
IS  an  offering 
rhen  spring- 
:he  dreadful 
idled  quickly 
camp  among 
lere  he  pur- 
home  should 
:essful  in  his 
shalf 

lines  in  front 
n  to  investi- 
rections,  but 
the  patience 

f  the  maids 
janying  ad- 
is  privileged 
went  home, 
he  lights  ex- 
ed  Mammy 
V  to  window, 


with  a  candle  in  her  hand.  At  one  o'clock  a  sound 
south  of  the  house  drew  him  to  the  road  beyona 
Pinewood. 

Mr.  Armour  was  bringing  home  his  father,  not 
in  their  own  carriage,  but  in  a  cab.  With  a  stolid 
face,  and  much  inward  bewilderment,  Joe  saw  the 
shrinking  old  figure  assisted  through  the  gate  in 
the  wall,  and  put  in  the  cottage. 

"Ole  man  gone  crazy,"  he  muttered,  an  opinion 
which  was  confirmed  when  he  descended  to  the 
cottage  half  an  hour  later  and  saw  his  master  sit- 
ting at  a  table  playing  like  a  baby  with  an  empty 
wineglass  and  some  teaspoons,  and  Dr.  Camper- 
down,  Mr.  Armour,  and  Mammy  Juniper  looking 
at  him  with  facial  expressions  hard  to  describe. 

A  little  later  the  two  gentlemen  ascended  to  the 
house,  where  Camperdown  left  Mr.  Armour  and 
drove  back  to  the  town. 

At  two  o'clock  Joe,  st?  ding  opposite  the  win- 
dows of  the  library,  was  keenly  watching  Mr.  Ar- 
mour, who  was  quietly  pacing  up  and  down  the 
room. 

There  wrs  something  wrong.  Mr.  Armour's  face 
was  too  white  and  stem  for  an  ordinary  occasion, 
and  where  was  Miss  Debbiline  ?  Joe  was  uneasy, 
yet  true  to  his  natural  instincts  he  waited  on,  for 
he  would  not  ask  questions  so  long  as  he  hoped  to 
gain  the  information  he  wished  by  ocular  demon- 
stration. 


.  u  kid 


iimT 


ii-'Pi' 


fr'Hjiliili 


II^T''  .?! 


m,, 


524 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


Three  o'clock  came,  and  Joe  was  just  about 
creeping  to  the  Hbraiy  window  to  address  Mr. 
Armour,  when  his  practised  ear  told  him  that  two 
carriages  were  coming  down  the  avenue.  He  drew 
behind  a  tree  trunk  and  watched  until  he  saw  the 
cabs  stop  before  the  door,  and  five  people  leaving 
them  and  entering  the  house. 

Ah !  here  at  last  was  his  worshiped  Miss  Deb- 
biline,  safe  and  well,  her  eyes  only  a  trifle  heavy 
from  her  night's  dissipation.  The  spirits  had 
spared  her,  and  he  could  now  go  happily  to  his 
camp,  but  first  he  would  take  a  final  view  of  what 
was  transpiring  in  the  library,  for  to  that  room 
would  Miss  Debbiline  probably  repair. 

The  delicate  rose  curtains  waving  to  and  fro  in 
the  night  wind  afforded  him  a  sufficient  screen,  and 
bending  his  supple  body  he  lingered  on,  observing 
what  appeared  even  to  his  untutored  mind  to  be  a 
succession  of  strange  and  unusual  scenes. 

Away  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  with  his 
back  against  the  bookshelves,  stood  Mr.  Armour, 
rigid  and  motionless,  his  eyes  glued  to  the  face  of 
the  peaceful,  white-haired  stranger  whom  Dr.  Cam- 
perdown  was  ushering  into  the  room. 

"Stanton,  you  know  this  man,"  Joe  heard  Dr. 
Camperdown  say  in  a  harsh,  resonant  voice — then 
his  attention  was  distracted  by  a  rustling  near  him. 

Vivienne,  with  her  finger  on  her  lips,  and  hold- 
ing up  the  train  of  her  white  dress,  was  gliding 


THE    FATE   THAT    PURSUES    US 


525 


i  just  about 
address  Mr. 
him  that  two 
e.  He  drew 
I  he  saw  the 
iople  leaving 

i  Miss  Deb- 
trifle  heavy 
spirits  had 
ippilv  to  his 
^iew  of  what 
)  that  room 

:o  and  fro  in 
t  screen,  and 
n,  observing 
lind  to  be  a 
es. 

m,  with  his 

^r.  Armour, 

the  face  of 

m  Dr.  Cam- 

e  heard  Dr. 
voice — then 
g  near  him. 
»,  and  hold- 
was  gliding 


like  a  fairy  to  his  side.  "  I  saw  you  from  the  win- 
dow above,  Joe,"  she  murmured.  "  Let  me  stand 
beside  you.  Mr.  Armour,"  with  a  catching  of  her 
breath,  "  will  not  allow  me  to  enter  the  room, 
but  I  shall  go  in  this  way  presently.  Do  not 
go,"  and  she  made  a  commanding  gesture  as  the 
Indian  was  about  to  creep  away,  "I  may  want 
you." 

"  Me  no  Stan*  beside  ghos*  flower,"  said  Joe, 
gazing  at  the  darkened  blossoms  across  her  breast. 

The  agitated  girl  looked  down  at  the  flowers, 
whose  dainty  heads,  as  if  weary  of  asking  fruitless 
questions,  had — unperceived  by  her — drooped  and 
blackened  till  they  were  uncanny  and  repulsive  in 
their  appearance. 

With  something  like  a  sob  she  caught  them  in 
her  hand  and  threw  them  far  away. 

"  Ghos'  flower  always  tumum  black,"  said  Joe, 
"when  pickum,"  then  immensely  flattered  at  being 
told  to  remain,  he  stepped  a  little  nearer  to  her, 
and  resumed  his  scrutiny  of  the  room. 

Mr.  Armour  had  become  disturbed.  His  face 
was  no  longer  resolved  and  apathetic,  but  alter- 
nately became  crimson  and  deathly  pale,  and  his 
attention  was  still  fixed  on  the  undemonstrative 
gentleman  with  the  white  hair,  then  on  Dr.  Cam- 
perdown,  who  was  hurling  impetuous  sentences  at 
him. 

"  Suppose  your  fabric  of  respectability  has  fallen 


Ur:\ 


;  i  ■■! 


526 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


down — rear  another  about  yourself.  No  one 
blames  you  for  this  catastrophe.  Can  you  not  ac- 
cept the  assurance  of  this  man  who  offers  your 
family  a  pardon  that  is  almost  divine?  Has  he 
not  suffered  ?     Aye,  more  than  you." 

"  I  have  been  stunned,"  said  Armour  in  a  hol- 
low, far-away  voice.     **  I  am  going  away." 

"  Coward  ! "  exclaimed  Camperdown  with  as- 
sumed anger.     "  Moral  coward  !" 

Armour's  face  brightened.  Instead  of  resenting 
the  offensive  epithet,  he  turned  to  his  friend  with  a 
smile  so  humble,  so  touching,  that  Camperdown 
swung  himself  away,  muttering  discomposedly,  "I 
can  make  nothing  of  this  fellow." 

Mr.  Delavigne  looked  compassionately  at  Ar- 
mour. '•'  I  should  have  known  you  anywhere,"  he 
said  in  a  dreamy  voice ;  **  you  are  like  the  little  lad 
whom  I  loved  so  much  as  he  sat  beside  me  at  my 
desk,  and  yet  you  have  changed.  Your  expres- 
sion  " 

"Yes,"  interrupted  Camperdown  furiously,  "we 
all  know  why  the  boyish  expression  went.  His 
father — ^that  gibbering  idiot  down  yonder — was 
the  one  to  frighten  it  away.  Tell  us,  Stanton,  you 
suspected  this  bad  business  from  the  first." 

"Only  suspected,"  said  Armour  in  a  firm  tone. 
"  Had  I  known  surely " 

"  But  you  had  no  proofs — ^we  all  know  that,"  in- 
terposed Camperdown ;  "  and  you,"  turning  to  Mr. 


ino.'. 


No    one 

you  not  ac- 

ofifers  your 

e?     Has  he 

3ur  in  a  hol- 
ly." 
v^n   with   as- 

of  resenting 
friend  with  a 
3amperdown 
[iposediy,  "I 

tely  at  Ar- 
ywhere,"  he 
the  little  lad 
e  me  at  my 
our  expres- 

ously,  "we 
went.  His 
onder — ^was 
)tanton,  you 

St." 

a  firm  tone. 

w  that,"  in- 
ning to  Mr. 


THE   FATE  THAT    PURSUES    US 


527 


Delavigne,  "  why  did  you  not  put  yourself  in  com- 
munication with  Stanton  through  all  these  years?  " 

**  Because  of  the  unnaturalness  and  the  useless- 
ness  of  such  a  course,"  said  Mr.  Delavigne  mildly. 

*'  But  he  has  been  looking  for  you — has  spent 
money.  You  might  at  least  have  told  him  that 
you  were  alive." 

"  I  regret  the  expense  ;  but  my  child — ^you  for- 
get her.  I  did  not  know  that  she  longed  for  her 
father,  yet  I  remembered  her  mother's  nature. 
Had  she  had  a  hint  of  my  existence  a  search 
might  have  been  instituted.  Better  for  her  to 
think  that  I  was  dead  than  to  link  herself  with  one 
who  would  disgrace  her.  To  you,"  and  the  elder 
man  turned  impulsively  to  Armour,  "  my  intensely 
grateful  acknowledgments  are  due  for  your  care  of 
my  child.  By  the  kindness  of  one  of  the  most 
noble  and  admirable  of  men,  I  have  been  enabled 
to  receive  accounts  of  her  safe-keeping ;  occasion- 
ally, with  a  heart  wrung  with  thankfulness,  to  see 
her.  Your  vigilance,  your  loyalty,  I  knew  T  could 
trust ;  for  this  latter  expression,  this  love  for  my 
beloved  daughter,  I  was  unprepared.  I  felt  that  I 
must  hasten  here,  yet  always  with  the  feeling  that 
the  boy  of  my  earlier  recollections  would  not  prove 
unworthy  of  the  highest  mark  of  my  confidence. 
At  the  moment  of  finding  my  child  I  am  willing  to 
lose  her  again  for  her  sake  and  yours." 

While  Mr.  Delavigne  was  speaking  Mr.  Armour's 


'fe. 


■l'        ;      1 


■".i!  ,' 


¥M  i''i 


528 


THE    HOUSE    OF   ARMOUR 


expression  had  again  become  one  of  insensibility 
to  either  pleasure  or  pain,  and  Camperdown  closely 
observing  him  went  to  the  door  and  sharply  ejacu- 
lated :  **  I  can  make  nothing  of  this  Obstinacy  the 
Second.  I  would  give  a  thousand  dollars  if  my 
wife  had  not  chosen  to  go  orphan-hunting  in  the 
country  at  this  time."  Then  he  turned  on  his  heel 
and  came  back  into  the  room.  "What  about 
Vivienne?" 

"  It  would  be  a  crime  to  link  her  life  with  my 
disgraced  one,"  said  Armour  heavily.  "She  must 
forget  me." 

"Is  she  a  girl  to  do  that?" 

"To  forget  is  the  privilege  of  youth,"  said  Ar- 
mour drearily.  "  You  may  fancy  that  I  am  doing 
a  cruel  thing;  ten  years  hence  Vivienne  will  be 
happily  married  to  another  man.  You  cannot 
tempt  me,"  he  said  with  sudden  energy.  "I  have 
weighed  the  matter.  The  pang  will  be  sharp  and 
short  for  Vivienn^ " 

"And  for  you?  "  said  Camperdown  eagerly. 

"For  me — it  does  not  matter.  I  am  going 
away." 

"Going  to  blow  your  brains  out,"  muttered  Cam- 
perdown. Then  he  exclaimed  with  increased  en- 
ergy :  "  Think  of  your  God,  your  country,  your 
promised  wife.  You  have  been  living  for  the  good 
opinion  of  your  fellow-men.  Your  god  Respecta- 
bility is  a  poor,  rotten  thing." 


THE    FATE  THAT   PURSUES    UC 


529 


insensibility 
down  closely 
larply  ejacu- 
ibstinacy  the 
lollars  if  my 
anting  in  the 
i  on  his  heel 
What   about 

life  with  my 
"She  must 


th,"  said  Ar- 
I  am  doing 
gnne  will  be 
You  cannot 
ry.  "I  have 
3e  sharp  and 

eagerly, 
am   going 

ittered  Cam- 
ncreased  en- 
ountry,  your 
for  the  good 
d  Respecta- 


"  Stanton ! "  exclaimed  a  voice  from  the  door- 
way. 

They  all  looked  in  that  direction  and  saw  Mrs. 
Colonibel,  white  and  haggard.  "What  is  this  I 
hear  ? "  she  went  on,  advancing  into  the  room. 
"  Is  your  marriage  broken  off?  " 

"Yes,"  he  returned  shortly. 

"This  is  your  doing,"  she  said  affixing  accusing 
eyes  on  Mr.  Delavigne. 

A  smile  passed  over  his  calm  face.  "  No,  it  is 
not ;  but  all  will  be  well  yet,  I  hope." 

Behind  Mrs.  Colonibel,  and  pushing  her  aside, 
came  Judy.  "What  is  all  this  fuss  about?"  one 
cried  in  a  peevish  way ;  "  the  house  in  commotion 
and  everybody  out  of  bed  !  Where  is  Vivienne, 
and  who  is  that  gentleman?" 

"Judy,"  said  her  mother,  turning  sharply  to  her, 
"this  is  Vivienne's  father." 

"Her  father!"  shrieked  the  girl.  "What  does 
he  do — where  has  he  come  from?  Stanton,  you 
won't  give  up  Vivienne  to  him?" 

"  He  came  with  Lord  Vaulabel,"  said  Mrs.  Co- 
lonibel in  a  high-pitched,  wrought-up  voice,  "  who 
has  had  him  ever  since  he  left  here,  and  Lord 
Vaulabel  has  suspected  all  the  time  that  he  had 
been  wrongly  treated.  He  intended  to  make  in- 
quiries while  here.  Mr.  Delavigne  would  not  allow 
him  to  do  so  before  now." 

"  How  extraordinary!"  gasped  Judy. 

21 


530 


THE    HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


it.  li    Tii 


.  ■■  >i>il 


^^ii'l!  I 


"And  Vivienne  has  met  her  father,"  pursued 
Mrs.  Colonibel,  "and  it  has  been  discovered  that 
Uncle  Colonel  trumped  up  a  charge  of  stealing 
against  Mr.  Delavigne  because  he  wished  to  get 
rid  of  him." 

"  I  can  well  believe  it,"  said  Judy  contemptu- 
ously. "  I  have  never  had  a  great  opinion  of  Un- 
cle Colonel." 

"And  in  spite  of  this,  Mr.  Delavigne  says  he 
will  allow  his  daughter  to  marry  Stanton,  and  yet 
Brian  sends  me  word  that  the  whole  thing  is  at  an 
end.     Who  has  done  it?     What  does  it  mean?" 

Camperdown  pointed  a  finger  at  Armour's  un- 
happy figure. 

"The  family  will  be  broken  up,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Colonibel,  sinking  into  a  chair  and  putting  up  her 
hands  to  hide  her  miserable  face. 

"Stanton,  old  man,  where  are  you?"  and  grop- 
ingly feeling  his  way  into  the  room  came  Valen- 
tine, exquisitely  dressed  and  unruffled  in  appear- 
ance. "I  hear  flying  rumors,  that  knowing  you 
as  well  as  I  do,  I  cannot  believe.  The  happiness 
that  you  have  so  long  deserved  is  now  within  your 
grasp.  You  are  not  going  to  ruin  your  chances?  " 
and  he  threw  his  arm  over  his  brother's  shoulc   r 

Armour,  like  a  hunted  animal  br<  tr'  c  to  bay, 
looked  desperately  at  the  faces  ro  about  hii.i. 
"I  have  a  conscience,'*  he  said  broke !ily  *I  can- 
not do  this  thing." 


THE   FATE   THAT    PURSUES    US 


531 


er,"  pursued 
covered  that 
e  of  stealing 
ished  to  get 

'  contemptu- 
inion  of  Un- 

gne  says  he 
iton,  and  yet 
ling  is  at  an 
it  mean?" 
Armour's  un- 
claimed Mrs. 
itting  up  her 

and  grop- 
came  Valen- 

in  appear- 
nowing  you 
le  happiness 
within  your 
r  chances?" 
s  shoulc  T 

^'  c  to  bay, 

about  hi    . 

ly  •    'I  can- 


"  What  thing?"  said  Judy  cuttingly.  "Do  you 
mean  that  you  cannot  give  up  your  iron  will,  that 
you  will  thrust  out  the  angel  of  the  house  ?  I  tell 
you  for  one  that  I  sha'n't  live  here  if  she  goes. 
Who  is  going  to  support  us  in  our  disgrace  ?  Who 
will  comfort  us  I  would  like  to  know?  I  shall  never 
go  out;  I  will  starve  myself;  I  will  die"  ;  and  giv- 
ing way  to  a  fit  of  angr}^  sullenness  the  girl  threw 
herself  down  beside  her  mother. 

"Joe,"  said  Vivienne  softly,  "  my  time  has  come. 
Help  me  in  through  this  window." 

Armour  had  watched  the  door,  but  he  had  not 
thought  of  the  window,  and  yet  he  did  not  really 
fancy  that  Vivienne  would  transgress  his  strict  com- 
mand that  she  should  not  seek  an  interview  with 
him  but  should  wait  for  a  letter  that  he  would 
write  to  her. 

When  he  saw  her  coming  toward  him  he  re- 
treated against  the  wall,  and  averted  his  eyes  from 
the  mingled  love  and  compassion  of  her  glance. 

"Stanton,"  she  murmured,  stretching  out  her 
hand  to  take  his  shrinking  one. 

"  Do  not  touch  me,"  he  said  hoarsely. 

She  turned  her  back  on  him  and  faced  the  other 
people  present  There  Wcis  no  mistaking  the  joy 
and  triumph  of  her  glance. 

"Come,"  exclaimed  Camperdown,  "she  will 
manage  him.  Let  us  all  get  out  of  this,"  and  he 
began  to  hurry  the  other  spectators  from  the  room. 


'■  t 


!:■ 


:i  •*4}^ 


;"!:: 


r  -»  -» 


THE    IIOUSB^   OF   ARMOUR 


However,  impetuous  as  he  was,  he  found  himself 
suddenly  brought  to  n  standstill  by  the  entrance  of 
Mammy  Juniper,  who  swept  upon  him  like  a  whirl- 
wind, candlestick  in   hand,  her  black  eyes   almost 
starting  from   her  night-capped   head,  her  padded 
dressing  gown  flying  back  from  her  excited  figure. 
"  Praise   the   Lord  !     Rejoice  greatly !      Shout,   O 
daughter  of  Jerusalem,  salvation  has  come  to  the 
house.      The    iniquity  of  Ephraim    is  discovered 
that  he  may  repent,  .  .   How  great  is  the  goodness 
of   the   Lord  !     How  great  is  his  beauty !     Corn 
shall    make   the    young  men    cheerfi  1    and    new 
wine  the  maids.     The  prisoners  of  hope  are  re- 
leased.     I  took  unto  me  two  staves,  the  one  I 
called  Beauty  and  the  other  I  called  Bands,  and  fed 
the  flock " 

"And  we'll  hear  the  rest  of  your  rhapsody  in 
the  hall,"  said  Camperdown  seizing  the  old  woman 
kindly  but  forcibly  by  the  shoulders.  "You're 
very  eloquent  but  slightly  discomposing.  Come 
now,  give  us  a  stave  about  the  poor  Assyrians. 
Some  of  them  are  out  of  bondage  too,  now  that 
your  worthy  master  is  laid  low,"  and  he  politely 
invited  Mammy  Juniper  to  the  back  hall,  where  he 
listened  for  a  few  minutes  to  her  trumpetings,  and 
then  went  home  without  addressing  another  word 
to  the  other  members  of  the  excited  family. 

The  fascinated  Joe  could  not  make  up  his  mind 
to  leave  the  window  even  when  Armour  and  Vivi- 


:  I :! 


THE    FATE   THAT    PURSUES    US 


533 


found  himself 
c  entrance  of 

I  like  a  whirl- 
eyes   almost 

,  her  padded 
tcited  figure. 
!  Shout,  O 
come  to  the 
is  discovered 
the  goodness 
jauty !     Corn 

I I  and  new 
hope  are  re- 
s,  the  one  I 
ands,  and  fed 

rhapsody  in 
old  woman 
•s.  "You're 
sing.  Come 
)r  Assyrians. 
30,  now  that 
he  politely 
all,  where  he 
petings,  and 
nother  word 
mily. 

up  his  mind 
Lir  and  Vivi- 


enne  were  left  alone.  In  intense  interest  he  listened 
to  Viviennc's  caressing  accents  as  she  addressed  the 
unhappy,  agitated  man  before  her. 

"So  you  wish  me  to  go  away?"  she  said. 

"Yes,"  he  muttered,  "I  dc.  Go  now  while  I 
have  the  strength  to  say  it.     I  am  a  ruined  man." 

"  Dearer  to  me  in  your  ruin  than  in  your  pros- 
perity," she  murmured ;  "  will  you,  can  you  drive 
me  from  you  ?  " 

"Yes,"  he  ejaculated  with  white  lips,  and  lean- 
ing one  hand  against  the  wall  to  steady  himself, 
"I  can.     Go." 

"Good-bye,  then,"  she  said  softly.  "I  am  too 
proud  a  woman  to  force  a  man  to  keep  his  promise. 
Good-bye,"  and  she  sauntered  slowly  away. 

But  that  glance  over  her  shoulder  !  The  Indian 
choked  back  a  barbaric  explosion  of  laughter  as  he 
saw  it  and  watched  Armour  hurrying  after  her  so 
quickly,  that  he  caught  his  foot  in  the  silken  train 
of  her  gown,  with  a  cry  of  irrepressible  love  and 
despair,  "  I  cannot  let  you  go." 

Then  there  was  a  long  silence.  "All  right  now," 
muttered  Joe  gleefully.  "  He  much  huggum  and 
kissum.  He  no  go  crazy  like  ole  man.  He  marryum 
in  church  with  flowers  and  girls  to  wearum  white," 
and  quietly  obliterating  himself  among  the  shadows 
of  the  house,  he  went  in  peace  and  contentment 
to  his  camp. 


N    iif'^ 


r,. 


'.    -li?- 


■  f  '  .:       I 


m 


|J!-| 


at! 


:i  1 


t' 


CHAPTER  XLI 


IN    DEEP    DESPAIR 


JUDY  was  curled  up  like  a  dog  on  the  library- 
door  mat.  "  I  will  not  get  up — I  will  not  get 
up,"  she  cried,  groveling  at  Vivienne's  feet,  as  she 
came  out,  "till  you  tell  me  that  you  are  not  going 
to  leave  us." 

*'  I  am,"  said  Vivienne  ;  "but  you  are  to  go  with 


me." 

"With  you,  my  precious?"  cried  the  girl  spring- 
ing to  her  feet.     "Where  are  you  going? " 

"To  England." 

"When  ?  "  almost  screamed  the  excited  girl. 

"To-morrow." 

"And  Stanton — what  is  he  going  to  do?" 

"  Marry  me  and  go  too." 

"Oh  this  is  delicious,"  said  Judy  clasping  her 
around  the  waist.  "  I  never  dreamed  of  this.  Oh 
I  will  be  good.  I  shall  never  get  ou^  of  temper 
now,"  and  she  sidled  in  ecstasy  up  and  down  the 
hall. 

"  My  father  will  accompany  us,  I  hope,"  said 
Vivienne.  "  I  wish  never  to  separate  from  him 
again.  I  must  go  to  see  him  now,  the  beloved 
534 


IN    DEEP    DESPAIR 


535 


)n  the  library 
-I  will  not  get 
's  feet,  as  she 
are  not  going 

ire  to  go  with 

le  girl  spring- 
tig?" 

:ited  girl. 

do?" 

clasping  her 
of  this.  Oh 
I'  of  temper 
id  down  the 

hope,"  said 
e  from  him 
the   beloved 


martyr.  I  can  scarcely  believe  that  he  is  here  ;  so 
many  wonderful  things  have  happened  to-night. 
My  head  is  in  a  whirl." 

"  Don't  go,"  said  Judy  detaining  her.  "  Mamma 
gave  him  the  best  room  in  the  house,  where  he  has, 
I  hope,  quietly  gone  to  sleep.  You  will  sec  him 
in  a  few  hours ;  let  us  talk  some  more  about  England 
and  your  marriage.  I  don't  understand  perfectly 
yet.  Things  have  been  so  rushed  that  I  am  con- 
fused. Will  you  explain  to  me  about  your  father? 
I  thought  Uncle  Colonel  liked  him.  Why  did  he 
wish  to  get  rid  of  him  ? 

"Dear  Judy,"  and  Vivienne  drew  the  girl  to  a  seat 
beside  her,  "it  seems  to  me  that  all  the  trouble  and 
all  the  comfort  in  the  world  comes  through  women. 
You  know  sometimes  men  love  the  women  they 
should  not.  It  is  a  shocking  thing  to  say,  but  my 
father  tells  me  that  Colonel  Armour  loved  my 
mother  better  than  he  has  ever  loved  any  person 
in  the  world."  • 

"Shocking  indeed,"  said  Judy,  "in  plain  English, 
brutal ;  for  I  suppose  in  liking  her,  his  first  thought 
was  to  get  rid  of  your  father." 

"  Yes,  he  wished  to  ruin  him,  to  bring  about  a 
separation  between  him  and  my  mother,  and  he 
hoped  that  my  father,  being  of  a  sensitive  nature, 
would  take  his  own  life,  and  my  mother  being 
proud  and  hating  treachery,  would  despise  his 
memory  and  marry  him." 


536 


THE    HOUSE   OF    ARMOUR 


"The  old  wretch!" 

"  But  my  mother  was  more  clever  than  he 
thought  her.  She  understood  his  wiles,  and  though 
she  could  prove  nothing,  she  told  him  that  he  him- 
self had  falsified  the  books  that  he  accused  my 
father  of  doing,  and  that  she  loved  her  husband 
more  than  ever  when  he  became  an  unhappy 
victim." 

"And  where  does  MacDaly  come  in?  " 

"  He  overheard  a  conversation  in  which  my 
father  rebuked  Colonel  Armour  for  his  obsequious 
attentions  paid  to  my  mother  during  the  absence 
of  her  husband.  Colonel  Armour  lost  his  temper 
and  in  a  fury  dismissed  him  from  his  service,  de- 
claring that  he  would  ruin  him." 

"Which  he  certainly  did,"  interrupted  Judy.  "It 
is  a  strange  tning  that  all  this  has  not  been  found 
out  before.  That  creature  MacDaly  ought  to  be 
horsewhipped." 

"  He  was  afraid  for  himself,"  said  Vivivenne, 
"for  it  was  he  that  set  the  warehouse  on  fire." 

"What,  MacDaly?" 

"  Yes,  but  wiihout  an  intention  of  doing  it.  It 
happened  in  this  way :  he  listened  to  the  altercation 
between  my  father  and  Colonel  Armour,  then  went 
into  a  place  of  hiding.  No  stir  was  made  with 
regard  to  the  affair,  so  he  issued  from  his  place 
and  loitered  about  to  hear  later  on  a  conversation 
between    Colonel   Armour   and  Stanton.     Colonel 


^ —A — 


IN    DEEP    DESPAIR 


537 


ir  than  he 
and  though 
hat  he  him- 
iccused  my 
ler  husband 
n    unhappy 

which  my 
obsequious 
'he  absence 
his  temper 
service,  de- 
Judy.  "It 
3een  found 
ght  to  be 

Vivivenne, 
fire." 

ng  it.  It 
altercation 
then  went 
nade  with 
his  place 
nversation 
Colonel 


Armour  said  that  he  was  coming  back  that  evening 
to  write  in  the  office.  This  was  unusual ;  MacDaly 
suspected  that  it  bore  on  my  father's  case  and 
resolved  to  watch.  Therefore  returning  stealthily 
at  an  earlier  hour  than  his  customary  one  to  the 
warehouse,  he  saw  Colonel  Armour  enter  and  leave 
his  office.  MacDaly  then  crept  to  the  room.  He 
found  the  safes  closed,  but  he  guessed  shrewdly  that 
his  master  had  been  tampering  with  the  accounts 
of  his  clerk.  While  shuffling  over  loose  papers  on 
the  table  he  mistakenly  thought  he  heard  Colonel 
Armour's  returning  step.  He  ran,  forgetting  a 
lighted  cigar  or  pipe  he  had  laid  down.  It  set  fire 
to  the  papers.  MacDaly,  watching  from  the  wharf, 
saw  the  windows  bright  with  flames.  He  rushed  to 
the  spot  but  he  could  not  extinguish  the  fire.  He 
feared  to  call  for  help,  and  not  till  the  passers-by 
saw  the  blazing  building,  was  an  alarm  sounded. 
Then  unfortunately,  it  was  too  late.  The  cunning 
MacDaly  hid  himself  till  the  fire  was  over ;  but 
Colonel  Armour  suspected  his  connection  with  it, 
and  taxed  him  with  it,  only  sparing  him  from  ex- 
posure because  his  purpose  was  to  have  my  father 
blamed.  This  is  a  whip  that  he  has  held  over 
MacDaly's  head  to  keep  him  from  making  any 
revelations  about  my  father." 

*'  That  if  he  did  he  would  be  punished  for  setting 
fire  to  the  building?"  said  Judy  inquiringly. 

**  Yes,  Colonel  Armour  frightened  him  by  saying 


!i 


f 


''a 


It': 


I 

i 


v,«,  r. 


■■i'>-'i- 


: 


1 

i 

'■  r^! 

1 

1^ 

■■       1:1 

^H 

■  i 

}.i 

9 

^m' 

1_.    .. 

■                   ■           •      ~9-' 

1 11 

['i 

III 

1 

w 

III 

»i:i 


I 


538 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


that  he  would  prove  that  he  had  done  it  intention- 
ally, which  by  the  common  law  is  felony.  The 
simple  MacDaly  knew  that  his  master  was  rich  and 
powerful,  and  he  did  not  dare  to  brave  him." 

"And  how  do  you  feel  about  it  all?" 

"  It  is  horrible,"  whispered  Vivienne  raising  her 
hands  as  if  to  lift  some  heavy  weight  from  her 
shoulders.  '*  To  think  of  all  these  years  of  agony, 
my  mother's  death,  my  father's  martyrdom,  Stan- 
ton's slow  misery,  my  unhappiness,  and  all  through 
the  sin  of  one  man.  Now  all  seems  brightness 
except  the  living  death  that  has  come  upon  the 
one  who  has  caused  all  this  trouble.  If  he  never 
comes  out  of  it,  Judy,  if  he  has  no  chance  for  re- 
pentance!" 

"  Don't  worry  about  him,"  said  Judy  scornfully. 
"Think  of  your  father.  Hasn't  he  a  sweet  face, 
and  isn't  he  a  perfect  gentleman  ?  And  you  and 
Stanton  thought  to  find  him  in  some  cobbler's 
shop  ! " 

"A  cobbler  can  be  a  gentleman,  Judy." 

"Ah,  Miss  Aristocrat,  you've  rather  changed  your 
opinions  since  you  came  to  Halifax.  By  the  way, 
why  do  we  leave  so  soon  as  to-morrow  ?  Is  it  be- 
cause you  are  in  a  hurry  to  get  Stanton  away  ?  " 

"Yes,  Judy." 

"And  here  comes  that  man  you  are  so  proud 
of.  I  think  I'll  go  to  bed.  I've  stuff  for  a  dozen 
nightmares." 


i  it  intention- 
felonv.     The 

m 

was  rich  and 
2  him." 

E  raising  her 
jht  from  her 
irs  of  agony, 
^rdom,  Stan- 
d  all  through 
IS  brightness 
le  upon  the 

If  he  never 
lance  for  re- 
ly scornfully. 

sweet  face, 
nd  you  and 
ne  cobbler's 


iy." 

hanged  your 
By  the  way, 
?  Is  it  be- 
away?" 

re  so  proud 
for  a  dozen 


CHAPTER  XLII 


ACROSS   THE  SEA 


SOME  weeks  later  Armour  and  his  wife,  with 
Judy  and  Mr.  Delavigne,  installed  thcu^sclvcs 
in  a  suite  of  apartments  in  the  principal  hotel  of  a 
gray  old  English  town.  Outside  Armour's  room 
ran  a  narrow  iron  balcony,  and  on  this  balcony  he 
stood  one  evening,  his  hands  behind  his  back,  his 
face  upturned  to  the  sky. 

"What  star  are  your  thoughts  on? "  asked  Vivi- 
enne  softly,  as  she  came  to  the  open  window. 

"One  called  Vivienne ;  won't  you  come  out?" 
he  said.     "It  is  very  warm." 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  you  think  a  very  great  deal 
about  that  star,"  she  said  roguishly  as  she  accepted 
the  mute  invitation  of  his  arm  to  come  and  stand 
beside  him. 

He  wrapped  her  white-furred  dressing  gown  more 
closely  about  her  and  stowed  her  long  hair  in  a 
hood  at  the  back  of  it.  "Now  I  can  see  your  face. 
Why  should  I  not  think  of  you,  Vivienne  ?  You 
are  a  constant  source  of  interest  to  me  with  your 
pretty  feminine  ways.  I  don't  think  women  under- 
stand how  odd  it  is  for  a  man  who  has  always  lived 

539 


540 


THE   HOUSE  OF   ARMOUR 


:S  t 


4 


It* 

F  ■ 


i;  •:' 


vlpPPf 


!l :   :i 


to  himself  to  have  some  woman  about  him  with  her 
constant  care  of  him,  and  her  questions  as  to  why 
he  does  this  thing  and  that  thing  and  what  he  is 
thinking  about" 

Vivienne  laughed  merrily.  "  Is  that  why  you 
watch  me  with  such  profound  interest  when  I 
mend  your  gloves,  and  why  you  looked  at  me  in 
such  surprise  when  I  went  to  your  rescue  the  other 
day  as  you  struggled  with  an  obstinate  necktie? " 

"  Yes  ;  you  are  a  very  fearful  and  wonderful  cre- 
ation to  me  at  all  times ;  but  when  I  think  of  you 
with  all  your  attributes  you  are  a  mystery." 

*'  You  are  not  a  mystery  to  me,"  said  Vivienne. 
"  I  understand  you  and  I  am  satisfied.  Over  there 
is  a  rookery,  Stanton.  In  the  morning  you  will  hear 
such  a  cawing." 

"And  yonder  is  the  school  where  you  used  to  sit 
and  look  over  the  trees  toward  Canada  ?  " 

"Yes,  Stanton." 

"And  read  my  brief,  cold  letters,  darling?  I 
wish  I  had  known  what  I  know  now.  How  differ- 
ently I  should  have  written." 

"Yes,  I  used  to  read  them  there,  but  they  did 
not  worry  me  so  very  much." 

"And  it  was  there,"  he  said,  "that  you,  one  year 
ago,  put  up  the  photograph  to  send  to  me  that  was 
to  make  such  a  change  in  my  life." 

"Yes,  my  dear  husband,  it  was.  Madame  Dubois 
and  I  were  spending  the  summer  here." 


him  with  her 
ns  as  to  why 
i  what  he  is 

lat  why  you 
•est  when  I 
^d  at  me  in 
ue  the  other 
necktie?" 
)nderful  cre- 
hink  of  you 
iry." 

id  Vivienne. 

Over  there 

'^ou  will  hear 

J  used  to  sit 
?" 

darling  ?     I 
How  differ- 

Lit  they  did 

u,  one  year 
ne  that  was 

ime  Dubois 


ACROSS   THE  SEA 


541 


•'  I  have  never  told  you  of  the  day  that  I  received 
it,  Vivienne.  I  was  exceedingly  busy,  and  in  the 
midst  of  my  rush  of  work  I  unfastened  the  string 
on  the  cardboard,  and  there  was  your  face  looking 
serenely  at  me.  I  was  completely  upset  by  your 
surprising  likeness  to  your  father,  and  at  once  the 
project  of  having  you  come  to  Canada  flashed  into 
my  mind.  I  thought,  surely  if  my  father  were  con- 
fronted with  you,  the  daughter  of  a  woman  that  he 
had  virtually  murdered — for  I  believe  if  it  had  not 
been  for  him  your  mother  would  be  alive  to-day — 
his  toughened  conscience  would  be  touched." 

"  What  became  of  the  photograph  ?  You  have 
never  told  me." 

Armour  blushed  slightly.  "I  am  ashamed  to 
say  that  I  tore  it  up.  I  almost  hated  you  in  those 
days ;  for  I  thought  if  the  Delavignes  had  never 
been  born,  my  father  would  not  have  been  tempted 
to  commit  the  crime  of  his  life.  I  would  give  a 
thousand  dollars  to  have  it  again." 

"Five  shillings  will  get  you  one,"  said  Vivienne 
lightly.  "  We  will  visit  the  photographer  to-mor- 
row, and  I  will  order  one  like  it." 

Armour  was  silent  for  a  time.  Then  he  said 
thoughtfully,  '•  I  wonder  how  affairs  are  going  on 
at  home." 

"We  know  that  Stargarde  goes  to  the  cottage 
every  day  to  weep  and  pray  beside  your  father," 
said  Vivienne  softly,  and  Flora  is  happy  with  the 


542 


THE   HOUSE   OF   ARMOUR 


1    " 


I  I 

I 

!  i 


housekeeping,  and  Valentine  practises — ^ah,  Stanton, 
that  first  Sunday  he  sang  in  church,  when  he  stood 
beside  the  organ  and  raised  his  calm  face  to  sing 
*Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy 
laden,'  I  could  not  keep  back  the  tears.  How  glad 
he  will  be  to  have  us  home  again." 

"  How  long  do  you  wish  to  stay  away,  Vivi- 
enne  ?  "  asked  Armour. 

"  Until  you  are  happy  in  returning." 

"  I  could  go  back  to-morrow." 

"Stanton  !"  and  she  looked  up  at  his  face  which 
was  illumined  by  the  gaslight  from  the  room  be- 
hind. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  firmly.  "  I  see  now  that  there 
is  no  place  to  retrieve  a  lost  reputation  like  one's 
own  home.  If  acquaintances  of  long  standing  are 
more  curious  and  critical  than  strangers  they  are 
also  more  compassionate.  The  people  of  Halifax 
are  my  people.  My  father  has  sinned  among  them 
and  among  them  will  I  endeavor,  God  helping  me, 
to  make  what  amendment  I  can  for  his  sins,  and 
for  my  own  sins  of  pride  and  obstinacy,  and  begin 
my  new  life  where  I  lived  the  old." 

Vivienne  surveyed  him  in  passionate  affection. 
"  I  thank  heaven  every  day  of  my  life  that  I  have 
married  a  man  who  is  strong  enough  to  acknowledge 
his  weakness,  and  who  knows  where  to  look  for  aid. 
Ah,  the  Divine  guidance,  Stanton,  what  should  we 
do  without  it  ?  "     And  standing  with  her  hand  in 


-ah,  Stanton, 
hen  he  stood 
I  face  to  sing 
id  are  heavy 
s.     How  glad 

•  away,  Vivi- 

lis  face  which 
;he  room  be- 

3W  that  there 
on  like  one's 
f  standing  are 
gers  they  are 
>le  of  Halifax 

among  them 
I  helping  me, 

his  sins,  and 
cy,  and  begin 


ACROSS    THE   SEA 


543 


her  husband's,  she  repeated  slowly  the  words  of  one 
of  her  beloved  Canadian  poets  : 

"  Forever  constant  to  the  good 

Still  arm  our  faith,  thou  Guard  sublime, 
To  scorn,  like  all  who've  understood, 
The  atheist  dangers  of  the  time. 

"Thou  hearest !     Lo,  we  feel  our  love 
Of  loyal  thoughts  and  actions  free 
Toward  all  divine  achievement  move, 
Ennobled,  blest,  ensured,  by  Thee." 


ate  affection, 
"e  that  I  have 
)  acknowledge 
)  look  for  aid. 
hat  should  we 
her  hand  in 


